The Irishman's Young Rose
by Azzamonkeyman
Summary: Rose is engaged to marry Cal, but on board the RMS Titanic she meets a gentleman name Thomas Andrews, who teaches her how to love and be loved in only a matter of days. But everything is put on the line when the Titanic starts to sink. Please R&R! thanks
1. Chapter 1

April 11th 1912 – 1 o'clock

Rose strolled over to the doors of the Palm Court Café, and as the opened automatically, a gentle breeze from the sea air blew across her hair, a stray red strand blowing out of place. She walked into the sterile looking room with its white walls, matching wicker chairs and tables, green ivy climbing the wall decorations, and of course, fitting to the name, small palm trees dotted around the edges of the room. The room was almost made of glass with the number of arched windows it had, each one allowing the glorious sunlight to pour in from outside. The doors shut behind her, as effortlessly as they had opened, and she surveyed the tables for familiar faces. And then she saw the tight faced red head with the judgemental eyes, and a smile as false as the pearls around her neck… her mother, Ruth.

"Rose, darlin', over here!" a booming American accent shouted through the reverent tones of conversation. It was Molly Brown, a large woman that loved to wear black and large fur hats. She boarded the ship at Cherbourg late yesterday evening. She was a strong willed lady with an even stronger laugh, who loved to share stories of her comical life from when she was poverty stricken. That was before her husband struck gold out west. She was what Ruth called, "new money." She was travelling to America to visit her son who had been ill for quite some time.

Rose nodded politely and headed through the maze of chairs to get to them, her white lace dress flowing elegantly as she moved. There were a few unfamiliar faces at the table. Two older gentleman, one who Rose recognized from the newspaper as the Chairman of the White Star Line himself, and the other gentleman's face was familiar, but Rose couldn't quite put her finger on it. Ruth of course, quietly screaming inside to be in the presence of such ocean royalty, was fast in telling Rose who their company was.

"Rose, at last. I was beginning to think you had jumped overboard." She laughed awkwardly, containing a hysterical laughter. "This is Mr Bruce Ismay, as I'm sure you already know."

Rose smiled at Mr Ismay, "How do you do?"

"I'm doing splendid thank you very much! And why wouldn't I be? Enjoying lunch on my very own creation. I even helped decide the menu for the first week of the voyage!" His English accent sounded stuck up, his curly moustache looked snobbish and he was talking about himself far too much. Rose instantly disliked him.

"And this fine man here is Thomas Andrews." Ruth signalled over to the other side of the table. Rose followed her mother's gaze, and literally had to stop herself from gasping in shock. Thomas Andrews, was a very "fine" man… a very fine man indeed. With his smouldering hazel eyes, gentle smile and salt and pepper hair. Rose realized she had been staring at him for longer than was considered proper … or even normal… and then she noticed that he had stood up from his seat and was holding a hand over the table for Rose to take.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, young Rose." He spoke with a smooth and sultry Irish accent. Rose could feel herself melting like a block of ice in the desert. She took his hand, making sure to savour every second of this modest hand shake. He had big, strong hands, but they were soft and handled Rose with care and respect. He stared into her eyes as he spoke, and then when neither of them were speaking, he continued to stare into her eyes… and shamelessly, she stared back. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr Andrews."

"Please, call me Thomas."

Rose could feel herself blushing. "Thomas." The sound of his name rolling off of her tongue made her heart skip a beat, and the sight of him being so close to her, and touching her hand… and then reality kicked in when a distinctive voice spoke from behind.

"Sorry I'm late everyone. I hope no one missed me too much."

Rose rolled her eyes and sighed. Thomas noticed her look of distaste.

Molly was first to reply to Cal, "I didn't even notice you were gone Cameron!"

As he took his seat next to Rose, he groaned irritably, "It's Caledon… but you can call me Cal."

"Oh can I now? Well thank you for the permission." Molly, knowing how ignorant the 1st class could be, didn't bow down to his inflated ego. It wasn't that long ago that she was a 3rd class citizen cleaning up restaurant tables. And even though she was dining at them now, her personality hadn't changed. If anything, she had become more true to who she is.

"Cal, I don't believe we've met, I'm Thomas Andrews." Politely, he held a hand over the table for Cal, who looked at it as if it was a piece of stale bread.

"And you are?"

"I helped build the ship you're on right now." He replied calmly.

In an instant, Cal had taken his hand and was shaking it vigorously. "Ah, Mr Andrews! It's an honour to meet you Sir!"

"This is Cal… my fiancée." The last part of Roses' sentence came out in a mumble. Thomas looked at her as she looked down at her cutlery, un able to look Cal or Mr Andrews in the eye.

"You're engaged?" Thomas' sounded as if a secret arrow had pierced his heart.

"Happily!" Cal replied, taking the young girls hand possessively and kissing it like a vampire, sucking the life out of her. "I'm surprised I haven't seen you in the papers Mr Andrews, with all the articles and stories on The Titanic's maiden voyage and such."

"Well I don't think my face has been plastered on the front page as much as Mr Ismay here... apparently the owner of the ship is more important than the men who designed and built it." He faked a laugh to hide the true intent of what he had said. A tinge of resentment edged his voice, but Rose picked up on it.

"Well I think that conjuring up a boat in your mind is a simple task that even Mother could do… it takes a REAL man to put his blood, sweat and tears into building it." Rose smiled and Thomas, reassuring him that he had done a good job. "Thank you, Rose… that means a lot to me."

Mr Ismay overheard the topic of conversation, and suddenly realized that he wasn't part of it. That soon changed when he began, "She is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history. And our master ship builder here, Mr Andrews designed her from the keel plates up."

Thomas was modest, and responded, "Well I may have knocked her together, but the idea was Mr Ismay's. He envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in it's appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged, and here she is!" he knocked the table triumphantly, "Willed into solid reality."

As he spoke, with such charisma and energy, and true Irish charm, with that melodic voice and those hypnotic eyes, and sparkling white teeth and rugged, manly features, Rose found herself in a trance. To her, the only people in the room were her and Thomas… and Molly, but that was only because her loud voice broke the trance.


	2. Chapter 2

Once again, Mother had done what Mother does best. Trying to control Roses' actions. She signalled at Roses' cigarette, silently telling her to put it out. Like a dragon, defending her fortress, she blew a cloud of grey smoke onto her mother's face in rebellion. However, Cal took matters into his own hands, taking the cigarette from her and snubbing it out into the ashtray. Cal didn't _try_ to control Rose, he DID control her, and she hated it.

"We'll both have the lamb… rare, with very little mint sauce." Only when he had finished and the waiter was gone did he turn to Rose and ask, "You like lamb, right sweet pea?"

She smiled falsely, not in the mood for arguing, trying to keep her cool. Truth be told, she detested lamb.

Molly of course, could always be counted upon, "Are you gonna cut her meat for her too there Cal?" she chuckled, but the laughter faded to nothingness when she saw that Cal was not impressed. She quickly changed the subject to avoid any awkward silences or confrontations, "So uh… who thought of the name Titanic? . . . was it you Bruce?" she grinned at the pompous man, who was seated at the head of the table like a King.

He wasted no time in replying, "Well yes actually." Thomas sniggered to himself at the sight of seeing Ismay's ego inflate even more. "I wanted to convey sheer size, and size means stability, luxury, and above all, strength!" he straightened his posture proudly when he finished.

Rose however, found his personality unbearable. He knew he had created an immense spectacle, and he wasn't modest about it in the slightest. Thomas Andrews, the designer of this very ship, is so modest and reserved that no one at this table knew he had done such a thing until he told them. She couldn't bite her tongue any longer. "Have you heard of Doctor Freud Mr Ismay?" he shook his head, and she continued. "His ideas about the male preoccupation with size might be of particular interest to you."

Molly opened her mouth in shock, but a wide smile spread across those plump rosy cheeks of hers. Ruth swallowed the lump in her throat when she saw Ismay shrink into his chair, flabbergasted. Cal rolled his eyes, used to his fiery red heads even more fiery temper. And Thomas, he almost choked on a grape as he laughed to himself. Rose was a feisty character… and he loved it.

Ruth whispered to her daughter angrily, "What has gotten into you?"

"Excuse me." She stood from her seat, knowing that she had made quite a mistake, but there's only so long that someone can be treat like a door mat before they react. She may have taken her anger out on the wrong person, but confronting Cal was something she had learned not to do… the bruises on her arms proved that all too well.

"She a pistol Cal. Hope you can handle her." Molly watched the young girl leave the Café, disappearing into a blur of sunlight out on the boat deck.

Cal kept his back turned away from his wife to be, trying to keep himself level headed. "Well I may just have to start minding what she reads from now on, wont I miss Brown."

Ismay was still in shock, looking rather pale. "Who is this 'Freud'… is he a passenger?"

Rose walked over to a railing, overlooking the poop deck. She wondered if it was called that because that's where the 3rd class passengers occupied during the day. A very base thought on Roses' behalf, but it was a valid point. She had tried to go down there earlier that day, but was forbidden by one of the ships officers. Something about, "lice and pick pockets" he said. Rose innocently replied, "But this dress has no pockets to pick from."

Just then, as she looked out over the miles of rolling blue ocean, she felt as if she was being watched. Glancing down to her left, she saw three men, conversing, but the man in the middle was no longer talking, and instead was staring up at Rose. She looked away, feeling the uncomfortable feeling of catching eyes with someone who is staring at you. A moment or two passed, and she looked down again. The tanned teen with the long dirty blonde hair and brown shirt was still staring. "_How rude._" Rose thought to herself. "_Probably deciding if I'm worth robbing or not_."

And then, the sound of footsteps made her turn. It was Cal, marching out of the Palm Court Café like a bull exiting a china shop. "What was that exactly?"

"The truth! Mr Ismay an arrogant-"

He cut his bride-to-be off, "Mr Ismay is the man who envisioned this ship… you should be a little bit more grateful."

"It's not as if he bought our boarding tickets." Rose turned away from him, watching the ocean again.

"No, he didn't… _I_ did!"

"So you would like me to treat you with respect?"

"It's the least you could do for the man you love." He tried to sound like he believed what he had said, but even he knew she didn't love him.

"Well, Cal… love is a two way street…" she began to walk away from him before finishing, "I'll meet you halfway." And then she was gone, vanished into the Café again. The sea air had cooled her head, but her heart was burning still. Cal clenched his fists, gritted his teeth and kicked the wooden planks of the boat deck floor… "_Better the floor than her_." He thought.

Rose took her seat next to her mother, luckily avoiding any awkwardness, as the group was once again in the midst of conversation.

"We MUST win that Blue Ribbon for the fastest transatlantic crossing, and I believe we can! Titanic has the ability to. The press knows the size of Titanic, now I want them to marvel at her speed. We must give them something new to print!" Said Ismay enthusiastically.

"Well, Bruce, why don't we send them another photograph of your face. I'm sure they'll be happy to print that, as would you!" Thomas replied cheekily, winking one of those perfect brown eyes. Rose laughed out loud, which caught his attention. She had the most adorable laugh he had heard. "Although I'm sure they'd want a more… attractive face, on their front page." He added, glancing over at Rose as he said this. Rose took the hint, and blushed yet again.

After that, Molly, Ruth and Ismay got wrapped up in a heated debate about why men call ships "she." Molly's guess was delightful as ever. "Is it because all the woman in this joint have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?" Hysterical laughter broke out among them all… all except Rose and Thomas, who sat across the table from one another, having their own, hushed conversation.

"Is everything alright, young Rose?" he sounded genuinely interested and caring.

"Yes… everything's fine… I'm just, feeling a bit under the weather, that's all."

"Well then I'll have to bring you back on top, won't I?" Thomas gave one of his trademark winks over to Rose as he placed a grape into his mouth. Rose watched his tongue caress the fruit and his lips close around it. Those perfectly pink lips. "I suspect you're just homesick. Once you're back in Philadelphia you'll be feeling much better."

At that moment, Cal entered the room, prompting Rose to say, "I doubt it very much."

Thomas could sense the lack of chemistry between Cal and Rose… the lack of communication, of love, even friendship… it wasn't a normal relationship… and he could tell that the beautiful Rose was withering in the dark… so he felt it was his duty to bring the sun back into her life… he was a builder, fixing things is what he did best.


	3. Chapter 3

April 12th 1912 – 8 o'clock

In the First Class dining saloon on the second night of the Titanic's maiden voyage, Rose sat and stared at the lamp in the middle of the table, occupied by the on board elite.

The Countess of Rothes, John Jacob Aster and his wife Madeline, Benjamin Guggenheim, Lucille and Lady Duff Gordon, and of course, the King of the World, Caledon Hockley himself… or so he thought anyway. The only claim to fame he had on this ship was the fact that several tonnes of Hockley steel had been used in the building of the vessel's structure… not that anyone knew, or cared.

And even though Rose was surrounded by such high regarded company, she was more interested in inspecting the glass patterns on the shade of this lamp. So much care and attention had gone into creating the elegant floral pattern and fruit depictions in small stain glass form. It must have taken a long time to create such perfection, and now here it stood, centre of attention in the middle of a 1st class dining table… but looking around the room, it was apparent that every table had the same lamp, made the same way, being adored in the same way… this lamp wasn't individual. It was just a clone in an army of handmade perfection… but the smallest flaw or crack would result in the lamp being thrown overboard, before it smashed completely.

Dinner had only got to its 3rd course, but Rose wasn't in the mood for eating the other 4 courses, or listening to such snobbery. She excused herself, telling her mother that she was tired, unsure if she was even listening. Ruth probably didn't even notice she was gone, too busy keeping her new rich friends happy. Ruth had grown used to this way of life, but Rose saw her whole life as if she had already lived it. An endless parade of parties and cotillions. Yachts and polo matches. Always the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter. She felt like she was standing at a great precipice, with no one to pull her back. No one who cared, or even noticed.

The young red headed beauty made her way down the 1st class corridor, with its oak wall panels, burgundy carpets and atmospheric wall sconces, lighting up the journey from the dining saloon to the passengers accommodation. The hallways were empty, as everyone was having their 7 course dinner, but the sound of the ships band playing for the diners echoed through the silent hallways and followed Rose. A constant reminder of the haunting soundtrack that had become her life.

The more she walked, the more she could feel her corset gripping her tighter around her torso. Its death hold of laces and fabric seemed to slow her breathing, which sped up her walking pace, desperately trying to get back to her room and take it off. Her bedroom was around the next corner. Or was it the next one? It had to be. She turned around and headed in the other direction. It had to be this row of doors. It had to be. But it wasn't. She stopped for a moment, looking around her. Everywhere in 1st class looked the same. She was feeling light headed. She hurried down another corridor. Maybe it was this one. It wasn't this one either. Letting out a distressed cry, she raced back the way she had come previously. There was no end to this maze. She was lost in luxury. She just wanted to be found.

"Rose!" a familiar voice called out. She stopped in her tracks and swung her head round. "Rose!" she heard footsteps coming around the corner, and then a sharp suit, long grey coat and charming smile appeared. "I thought I saw you down here."

"Thomas!" Suddenly, breathing wasn't so difficult.

He walked towards her, noticing the look of frustration on her face. Her pale complexion looking hot and flustered. Her neatly tied up hair almost undone, with strands hanging down over her face. Mr Andrews took a lock of her hair and placed it behind her ear, tenderly brushing it into place with his fingers. "What's the matter?"

Rose could feel herself shivering at the touch of his fingertips. "I'm fine…. I just…"

Thomas raised an dark eye brow, waiting for her to finish. He was so much taller than her, he loomed over her protectively, but she loved looking up into those sparkling eyes.

"… I'm lost." She admitted hesitantly, almost embarrassed.

He was silent for a moment, looking at her… but then he burst out into a contagious laughter, which seemed to emanate from his very heart. A warm laughter, full of life. "Oh young Rose, I don't blame you. I built the thing and I still get lost. I've been working on it since 1908, and even still I take a wrong turn or go up the wrong staircase sometimes. It's a floating palace, that's for sure… What room are you in?"

Something about Thomas asking what room she was sleeping in made Rose's heart skip a beat. "B 54… I tried to find it, but normally I follow Cal back to the room…"

"Well, I hope you don't mind following me back to the room tonight for a change?" Thomas smiled cheekily, knowing the innuendo in what he had just said as soon as he said it.

His young Rose blushed, "Of course not… I'd be happy to."

It turned out that Rose wasn't far from it. She had come up onto the wrong floor. Understandable, Thomas said, seeing as all the corridors looked the same. Walking by his side, she felt safe, and able to be herself… something she hadn't done in a long time.

"So why were you all in England anyway my dear?"

"Looking for wedding dresses… I didn't see anything I liked in New York, and Cal insisted we try London instead."

"And?"

"Still nothing."

"Two of the most influential style capitals in the world and you couldn't find a wedding dress in either of them?" Thomas asked doubtfully, grinning as he lead Rose down the hall.

"Well, truth be told, I saw hundreds of dresses that I would have loved to buy."

He was confused. "Then why didn't you?"

"I'm not sure… I picked up one dress. It was perfect. White, corset on top, meringue on the bottom… and I adored it."

"So what stopped you from buying it?"

"It looked perfect… but it didn't feel perfect."

Thomas looked down at her young, beautiful face. She was looking down at the floor as she spoke, rubbing her arm insecurely. The reached her room, cabin B 54. Rose would normally walk right into her room and shut the door tight behind her… but she wasn't with Cal. She couldn't find the urge to leave the hallway… to leave Thomas.

"Well here we are, sweetheart." He held out one of his big, strong hands and gestured to the door.

"Indeed we are." Rose replied, looking at the door.

"I hope you have a good sleep Rose… and sweet dreams." He placed a hand on her shoulder, and moved his thumb over her skin softly, massaging that one spot. Rose put her hand on his and looked over her shoulder to say, "I'm sure I will tonight… Goodnight Thomas."

"Goodnight Rose." He slowly moved his hand from under hers, and with that he was gone. His footsteps disappeared down the hallway and vanished into the distance, leaving Rose standing alone at the cabin door, still feeling the sensation of his warm hand on her cool skin.

Walking into her room, she felt much more relaxed. Talking to Mr Andrews did that to her. He soothed her, and let her speak her mind. When she was with him, she felt stronger than ever. When she was with Cal, she felt like nothing.

"Ah, Miss Rose, you're back early." Said Miss Trudy in her Irish tongue. She had been Roses' and Ruth's maid for almost a year now. She was a lovely woman that Rose felt had become like family to her. Not that Ruth saw it that way.

"I was feeling a little bit ill at dinner, so I left early."

"Would you like a glass of water, Miss?" Trudy asked, instinctively stepping into her dutiful role as maid.

"No, no, I'm quite alright… I'm feeling a lot better now."

"Well why don't you go out for a stroll on the boat deck… it'll be nice and cool out there… you could clear your head." Her black dress and white apron hurried into the next room to tidy up before Cal arrived back later on, after his cigars and brandy.

"I was going to… I considered it… I was thinking of going to the stern, to try and see the propellers…" As Rose spoke, she sat down in front of the mirror, gazing at her reflection.

Trudy laughed, "Oh Miss Rose, I don't think they're high enough out of the water to see. You'd end up slipping!"

"Yes… yes, you're right…" She took her small tiara out of her hair and unravelled the swirling ginger curls, where they lay over her shoulders and down her back.

"Would you like your corset unfastened, Miss?"

"Yes please, Trudy… thank you."

Rose got up and walked over to the four poster bed, holding onto the wooden bed post as Miss Trudy undid her dress at the back and began untying the tight laces that held her corset around her frame chokingly.

"Jesus, Mary and Joseph! It's a wonder you can breathe in this Miss… if you don't mind my saying so." She spoke as she untied the fabric.

"I felt ready to collapse on the way back here... I didn't thankfully… it passed"

"What helped you recover do you think?"

"I'm not sure… Have you met Thomas Andrews yet, Trudy?"


	4. Chapter 4

April 13th 1912 

Rose woke up early the next morning in a cold sweat, gasping for breath, feeling as if she was drowning in the masses of silk quilts and cushions that surrounded her. She throw the cover aside and shot upright, holding her hand to her chest, feeling her heart pounding at her rib cage like a mallet. Looking over to her side, she saw Cal stirring.

"Are you alright, Rose?" Cal grumbled, opening is eyes to the blinding light which streamed through the window.

"Yes… yes I'm fine. Go back to sleep." She moved over to the edge of the bed and placed her feet into her sleeps, which sat with pin point accuracy at where her feet would fall. Trudy was good at her job.

Cal sat up, his bare body expose, his toned abs and strong arms, covered lightly with dark hair. He was twice Roses' age, and it showed in how fully developed his masculine body was. In her mind, she was still just a girl. He clambered across the bed wearing only his silk pyjama bottoms and started rest his head upon her shoulder, kissing her neck tenderly, his stubble tickling her. He placed his arms around her waist, holding her possessively. Rose, knowing that she couldn't be too despondent, placed a hand on his arm and rested her head on his. He was an attractive man, and Rose couldn't deny that. Her friends back in Philadelphia were extremely jealous of her… if only they knew the hidden temper under dashingly handsome exterior.

"Where did you go last night?" He asked softly.

"I was tired."

"And you seem even more tired now… come back to bed, darling." He began to raise his hands above the waist, attempting to caress her chest, but she grabbed her night gown from the hanger above the bed and stood up quickly.

"I'm not in the mood Cal… I'm sorry." She made her way over to the vanity mirror.

Cal watched her walk away, and defeated, he collapsed from his hands and knees flat onto his stomach. A deep sigh, and he said, "Rose… when was the last time we expressed our feelings for one another?"

"I forget."

"Precisely! It's been too long. You'd think that you didn't want to have sex with me." His tone became serious suddenly.

Rose had to swallow the lump in her throat which came from this thought. "Of course not."

"What's the problem here? Am I not appealing to you?"

"No, it's not that. I think you're a very handsome man, Cal." There was no point in lying.

A ray of hope, and Cal jumped at it. He rolled over onto his back and jumped up out of bed, slipping on his red slippers, "And I know that you are the most beautiful thing on this ship."

He had his chance, and he missed it. He called her a "thing" which didn't help the fact that she felt she was only an object to him. She continued to brush her hair.

"And am I too old for you… would you rather have a younger model?" He made his way over to her stealthily, moving like a lion when it sees its pray.

Rose had to think her reply to this question. If you had asked her a week ago, she would have said yes… but now, she didn't know… he was twice her age, this was true… but Thomas was almost three times her age… and she was attracted to him like she had never been attracted to anyone in her life… just then, she looked at her reflection, Cal hovering around behind her, stretching his well-built body out… but even in the presence of her fiancée… she had just admitted to herself that she was indeed physically attracted to Thomas Andrews and knew she liked him a lot… that was the last thing she needed.

"Rose? … Rose?" Cal shouted.

Rose was brought back to reality. "Sorry, what?"

"Were you listening to me?" He sounded insulted.

"I'm sorry, I was day dreaming… What did you say?"

"Dreaming of me, I presume?" He winked arrogantly. His winks weren't the same as Thomas'.

"_I should be day dreaming of you… but I'm not." _Rose thought to herself.

"Anyway, as I was saying, I want you to come back to the room tonight for 9 o'clock."

"So I have a curfew now?" Rose scoffed.

"No… I have a surprise for you."

This caught Rose off guard. The last time he said this was when they were courting, and he ended up on one knee as Ruth watched from the doorway, clearly conducting the sweet symphony. "A surprise?"

"Yes… don't sound so nervous." He strolled over to his "thing" and sat down next to her, stroking her hair with his controlling fingertips. "I'm sure you'll like it… or I hope you do… I'm never too sure with you anymore, Rose… I mean to please you." He kissed her cheek.

"I know it, Cal… I know it." And she continued to stare at her reflection, wishing that she knew what she wanted… she didn't want Cal, but she wanted a man who was older than him and a virtual stranger… Cal made her life difficult, but she didn't make it any easier.

Rose sat up on the boat deck that afternoon, enjoying the fresh air and bright blue sky overhead as she lounged on a deck chair. She hadn't seen Thomas today, and she was deciding if she should go find him or wait til he found her, as he seemed to do last night. She assumed that he would be doing his usual rounds. Inspecting the ship, talking to other passengers and crew, making sure they were performing their duties, and that the ship was performing its own duties correctly. The idea of this one man having so much power and responsibility on this floating palace blew Cal's idea of power right out of the water. Cal owned several tonnes of steel within the ship, but Mr Andrews owned the ship. That put things into perspective.

Just then, Rose remembered something that her father told her a day before he died. _"Happiness will not come to you on a silver platter Rose... 1__st__ class doesn't work that way. Sometimes you have to go out of your comfort zone to find happiness, and go out of your way to get there."_

She debated whether to take the advice or not, considering it came from a man who had serious gambling problems and was ultimately murdered by a gang whom he owed masses of money to, leaving Ruth and her young daughter nothing but a legacy of bad debts hidden by a good name… hence the reason she had to marry Cal. To ease the financial difficulty that Ruth had found herself in. But Frank DeWitt BuKkater was a brilliant father… he just wasn't a perfect man, and who is? So Rose decided that she may as well take his advice. She was too young to take his advice in his lifetime, so it was now or never.

She stood up, taking her purse, so none of the pick-pockets found an early Christmas present on their travels, and headed along the ship, bound for the wheelhouse. She wasn't too sure if he'd be there, but even if he wasn't, someone would be that might know his whereabouts. She loved this feeling of being on the open ocean. It was a world away from being in the midst of the hustle and bustle of busy towns and cities, filled with trams, automobiles, and busy pedestrians. Everyone on board the Titanic was so calm and relaxed. The sea air must have that effect on people.

Rose was young, but she was no fool. She knew that Mr Andrews had been flirting with Rose, and that he did care about her… and scandalously, Rose had been flirting back. An engaged woman too! What would mother say? She tried not to think about it, but she couldn't stop thinking about Thomas. Ever since the first day she saw him at lunch, he had been on her mind. She wanted nothing more than to run her hands through that silver foxes hair, and plant a kiss on those smiling, pink lips. These were feelings she had never felt for Cal. When they first started dating, she felt that she liked him… but when his true colours shone through and Ruth's plan was unveiled, she felt that she now HAD to like him… but with Thomas, she didn't have to try, and neither did he. He was himself, and that's what she was attracted to. Not his wealth, not his high ranking position on this ship… his personality… that's all.

She made it to the wheelhouse, casually glancing around for any signs of the tall man in the long grey coat. Nowhere. She looked inside the wheelhouse. She saw Captain Smith, who had spoken to Cal the day they boarded. Would it be too bold of her to ask him? But before she had a chance to do anything, Bruce Ismay came charging out of a door leading from the wheelhouse, brandishing a sheet of paper in his hand angrily.

"When was I going to know about this?" He demanded.

Captain Smith turned around to see the flustered face approaching him. "What is it now, Mr Ismay?"

"This! Iceberg warnings?" He shoved the paper into Smith's chest, who took it from Ismay's hand.

"What is your point, Sir?"

"Icebergs? Where, when?"

Smith sighed and rolled his eyes, "Mr Ismay, they're not that predictable… this warning is from _The Californian, _and they passed an ice field just ahead of us… We should run into it within the next day or two."

"So what does this mean for the Titanic's speed?"

The Captain turned around and walked over to a window, staring out over the bow of the ship as it raced forward into history. "We maintain the speed we're headed." He knew that this wouldn't please Bruce.

"We maintain it? We don't speed up to get by the ice quicker?"

"Of course not! Mr Ismay, it's ice. Ice no matter how big or small can damage a ship… whether it's deemed unsinkable or not… we must proceed with caution."

"But the press know the size of Titanic, now I want them to marvel at her speed! We must give them something new to print… this maiden voyage of Titanic must make headlines!" He saw that simply commanding Smith was going nowhere, so he hit a note closer to home. "And what a marvellous ending to your final crossing if we were to get into New York on Tuesday night and surprise them all… retire with a _BANG_, eh E.J?" He put a hand over Smith's shoulder and gave him a friendly nudge.

"Who gave you that warning, Bruce? I planned to keep it out of your sight… I knew you would do this."

Ismay removed his persuading arm of encouragement from The Captains shoulder, feeling the sting of his words. "I wasn't given it, I found it."

"Just floating on the wind, I presume?"

"No… I found it in Mr Andrews room if you must know… and I feel personally that I should receive all information of this sort." He folded the paper and placed it into his breast pocket. "After all, such decisions shouldn't be left to a simple ship builder to dwell on."

Captain Smith bit his lip to stop himself from fully condemning Ismay. "Where's Thomas' cabin? Give me the warning, Sir. I'll take it off your hands… After all, a simple passenger shouldn't have such vital information." His tone was serious.

Ismay tried to resist, but gave in, giving him the paper. "A 23." And then he stormed off, like a child that has been told off for playing with something he shouldn't have.

"A 23" Rose thought to herself… perhaps it was time to meet Thomas in the place she knew he might be… his bedroom… the scandal of it all gave Rose shivers, and she turned around to head inside the ship and find her man's room amidst this maze of wealth.


	5. Chapter 5

Rose headed from the boat deck and into the Grand Staircase, with its sweeping marble steps, hand-carved wooden panel walls, elegantly decorated stair railings and illuminated by a glorious glass dome, 30 feet across, which hovered above the room like a God. It was a truly spectacular room, and to think that Mr Andrews helped design such beauty made Rose gasp in awe. She spun at the top of the stairs, taking in the sight of the blinding light above her, and then hopped down the steps, two at a time. Other 1st class passengers looked at the girl with the spring in her step like she should be locked up. "_A 23_" Rose repeated to herself, over and over again. "_A 23_"

She got to the correct hallway, more certain of where the lower numbers were than the higher ones, for the high the number, the further down the corridor it was, and the further down, the more maze-like it became. Rose couldn't help but imagine Thomas designing these parts of the ship to challenge the simple minds of the elite, running around his ship like hamsters in a cage.

Without any difficulty at all, she found the room. "_A 23_." She didn't know what to do now… but one logical thing seemed to pop into her mind… knock. She lifted her hand to the door, steadied her shaking nerves, and knocked politely… she waited in anticipation… no reply. She knocked again, a little louder this time… nothing. She knocked once more, harder this time, and the door budged slightly. It was open? She pushed it slightly, and it began to open more, revealing the luxury within. It was like opening a treasure chest.

A glass chandelier lit the room, and an enormous four poster bed dominated the space, covered with colourful throws of silk and cotton, and an abundance of pillows, filled with goose feathers. "_Far too large a bed for a single man_." Rose thought as she walked into the room, closing the door behind her. _"That's big enough for at least four people to sleep in!... among other things." _Her thoughts surprised herself, but she had heard of stories of far off places, where men slept with men, women slept with women, and together they all slept with each other in large groups. A world away from what was considered tasteful in her society… but it sounded like an interesting way to use a bed. Rose even knew for a fact that Cal wished to participate in such trifles.

At the back of the room stood a heavy looking desk, chests of drawers and a gold coloured swivel chair on wheels. All over the desk and even the floor of this part of the room sat masses of papers, documents and notepads. Rose, being the curious young girl that she was, began to skim through the papers, and eventually found a large, blue sheet of paper. She lifted it up, and in her very hands were the blueprints for The RMS Titanic herself. And on the blueprints, were the scribbled notes of Sir Thomas Andrews himself. So much time and effort had gone into drawing these designs. This ship, 270 meters in length, was now in the palm of her hands. Every porthole, every door, every funnel, every lifeboat… but on here, there were many lifeboats positioned on deck, sat in stacks of two, with ten on each side, meaning that there were 40 or so lifeboats in this drawing… Rose, from what she had seen on deck, saw only about 20.

He was certainly a very talented man… and then she saw it. The very thing that she loved most about him… his wardrobe! She strolled over to the elegant looking armoire, made of mahogany and brass. She circled the handle with her fingers, knowing that his creative hands had touched this very spot… and before she even knew what she was doing, she had opened the door and was feeling the mans shirt and jackets, coats and trousers. His shoes sat in neat rows on a rack below the hanging rail, and his ties and bow ties were on the top shelf with his socks and underwear… Not to be rude, but it seemed that his underwear had to carry the large package… the fact that they were tailor made for him showed this. She put her head inside the world of expensive material and comfort, and breathed in heavily. The smell of beautiful aftershave from a beautiful man and lavender from his delicates kissed Roses' nostrils. Cal usually just smelled of cigars and brandy… and on a good day, the aftershave Rose bought him a year earlier… not that he ever wore it much.

She shut the door, making sure nothing was out of place, and as she turned around, she saw the bed once more, and in a trance, without any awareness of her actions, she was floating towards the bed and laying down under the covers… Thomas… the flirtatious, handsome, intelligent, witty and charming silver fox… he slept here… his near naked body slept on these sheets… his gorgeous face drooled on these pillows as he dreamt of bigger and better designs of invention to surpass those previous. She smelled the pillow, smelt him, and began to kiss the soft fabric, imagining that-

"What am I doing?" She spoke out loud. She looked around the empty room. This was his room, not hers. She had no right to be here. And she was kissing his pillow. She craved him, and she wanted him, and she was certain he wanted her.. but this wasn't the right thing to do.

She jumped out of the bed, made the sheets as she went, and then left the room, double checking that nothing looked out of place, and as she went, she shut the door, before walking down the hallway innocently, pretending that what had just happened never happened.

"The fire didn't last long, and you extinguished it shortly after finding it… It's fine."

It was Thomas, just around the corner. This was becoming a regular occurrence for them both. She felt her cheeks burning as she thought of where she just was.

"But it had been burning for quite a while before we found it… The bulkhead isn't significantly damaged, but it's in the doorway… It's weakened." A small, round man who looked sweaty and covered in soot spoke, and was first to round the corner.

"Well the ship won't be in any stress around that section of the ship, it's quite alright… We can have a crew inspect it properly when we reach New York on Wednesday." Thomas followed him closely, holding his usual workload of papers. Rose waved cheerily, and her tall dark and handsome man brushed right past her, just touching her arm with his, and walked away in the other direction, not even noticing her presence.

Had she done something to offend him? She didn't think he had. She heard the men's voices fade into the distance of the hallway as they turned another corner. He didn't even look back at her. She couldn't believe it. She felt her heart literally sink and turn to ice.

Rose began to walk away, feeling like a complete idiot. But then, she heard him again, louder this time. "One minute, James, I think I left something back here, I'll catch up with you in a minute!"

She swung her head round, a flood of tears threatening to drown her eyes, but they soon disappeared when she saw Thomas run round the corner enthusiastically, waving an arm at his young Rose happily. He raced over to her and took her by the shoulders. "Rose, I'm so sorry, I can't stop to talk, there's some concerns down in the boiler rooms, I need to go down and check it out."

"I understand Thomas… I thought you were ignoring me." She looked up into his apologetic eyes.

"No, no, of course not! Never! It's just James doesn't take kindly to female distractions when on duty… he's a very old fashioned bugger!"

Rose laughed. The phrases he used and the accent he spoke them in made her heart warm and her skin hot. "I was hoping to find you, Thomas." She admitted, not sure how he would react.

He seemed caught off guard, but then a smile slowly crept onto his lips and he replied, "I was going to come find you later on, sweetheart… meet me on the boat deck in an hour."

"I'll wait for you, Thomas."

He slid his hand from her shoulder, down her arm, and then held her hand, for only a moment or two, but long enough for Rose to feel a hot flush. He slowly let her hand go, kissed her cheek softly and whispered, _"Thank you." _before running down the hall after James.

Rose stood there, feeling his lips on her cheeks still, and his hand in hers, and even though she must have looked like a complete fool standing in an empty hallway, holding her cheek in adoration, she didn't care… it was the most perfect feeling she had ever felt. She hadn't felt a man treat her so carefully and lovingly since she was in the arms of her dear Father. Cal said he didn't know what Rose wanted, but it wasn't hard. At that exact moment, Rose KNEW what she wanted… love.


	6. Chapter 6

It was late in the afternoon now, and the dinner trumpet would be blown soon. Molly Brown had commented on the way they alerted the 1st class passengers when dinner was being served when she said, "Why do they insist on announcing dinner like a damn cavalry charge?" She always knew how to make Rose laugh.

She sat on her familiar deck chair and passed the hour waiting for Thomas by thinking about Thomas… a very school girlish thing to do, and he was old enough to be her professor… but she didn't care. She also thought about how that kiss on the cheek could have been so much more... if he had took her by the hand and lead her down the hallway to his cabin, opened the door, and then kissed her on the cheek and slowly made his way to her eager lips, as his hands touched all over her body, expertly unfastening her dress as he did so.

The trumpet sounded, and Rose jumped. She must have dozed off for a while. Everyone on deck at that moment began pouring inside as that evening's festivities got underway. It must have been six o'clock if the trumpet was being played now. The Titanic's actions ran like clockwork, for 1st class anyway. Nothing so far seemed out of sync or out of place.

The only thing which seemed out of sync was Thomas' timings. It was just after four when she bumped into him, and now it was six. It had been almost two hours… he was late… very late. Rose had fallen asleep, but if he had showed up, he would have woke her up surely. Or did he see her, kiss her resting body tenderly on the lips, and then depart… it sounded romantic, and what she wished had happened, but she knew it wouldn't have been the case. Not in front of the rest of the people on deck. It would have had their chins wagging and the headlines running out of ink for the next month!

She sat up, stretched her weary arms and yawned. She wasn't feeling too hungry. A large three course lunch made sure of that. Getting up, she surveyed the ocean. Completely calm, but the sound of the crashing waves caused by the sailing structure roared from down below. The boat deck was more or less empty now, apart from several passengers which were on a stroll or just making their way inside. If he wasn't here now, and it had been two hours, perhaps it was best to go to dinner or just go back to her cabin. Something important will have come up which he couldn't ignore. Either that or he just forgot. Rose didn't want to think that she had been forgotten, but she didn't know what to think. She made her way over to the 1st class entrance, feeling let down, but trying not to be too disheartened. Just as she put her hand on the door handle, a hand touched her shoulder, and that beloved voice said, "I'm sorry I'm late, young Rose. Those ship engineers just don't know when to shut up about their work!" He laughed.

Rose turned around and saw the friendly face that she had grown so used to.

"I'm surprised you're still out here." He continued. "I would have gone inide after the first ten minutes."

Rose smiled slightly. "Well, truth be told… I didn't wait for you… I… I fell asleep." She blushed. He put a hand on her burning cheek and stroked it with his thumb.

"Have I told you how adorable you are when you blush?"

"And have I told you what soft hands you have?"

"I don't believe you have, but thank you very much."

Rose looked down, and he was holding a hand out for her to take. She looked up at him for approval, and he nodded, grinning widely, his brown eyes sparkling. She was hesitant at first, and looked around. "Are you sure?"

"Everyone is inside, darling… it's fine… also, no one seems to even recognize my face, so they'll not suspect a thing."

Rose looked back down at his hand, so without further ado, and after much ado about nothing, she took it gladly. Her fingers fit in between his manly fingers perfectly. She could feel his lightly hair covered knuckles, and his powerfully protective hold on her pale and delicate hand. Cal held her hand too tight, as if she was about to run away… if only. Thomas held her hand tightly, but loose enough so that if she wanted to walk away he would let her. She couldn't believe she was finally holding his hand. Even this was enough to make her smile uncontrollably.

"These hands… they're big Irish hands… solid as a rock!"

"They'd have to be to build a ship such as this."

They began to walk the deck, slowly, taking in the sight of the other by their side as they strolled.

"Cal was telling me that you didn't think it looked any bigger than the Mauritania… I'm hurt! I'm truly hurt!" He joked, holding his heart as if it were breaking.

Rose chuckled whole heartedly. "Well, that was on the docks, from a distance… it didn't look as big as it is until you're standing right next to it… It's beautiful Thomas, it really is."

"It's not the only beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on… and certainly not the most beautiful." He squeezed his young red heads hand and winked. She squeezed it back, and held it that way, even harder than before.

"So what you said the other night… about your wedding dress."

"Yes?"

"You said it looked right, but it didn't feel right… what was the matter?"

"Well-"

He cut her off, and said in his cheeky tone, "Was it the wrong kind of material for your highness? Were thou fingertips not pleased?"

Rose laughed, "You know it wasn't! It was… just, everything… I don't want to marry him."

"I realized that much."

"You did?" Rose was shocked.

"You sound surprised, young Rose! Sweetheart, it's not hard to see that there's no connection there with you both."

"Well if you can see it, everyone must be able to."

"You'd be surprised. 1st class like to shut their eyes to what's really happening right under their noses… like the rats down in steerage for instance."

"There are rats on this ship?"

"Of course there are. Little fluffy passengers seeking a new life in New York… I go down and give them bread and cheese sometimes… but if the 1st class passengers don't see it, then it's not happening. It's like poverty and disease… they turn a blind eye and pretend it's not happening, and their minds are at ease… it's the same with you and Cal having no foundations to your relationship."

Thomas was so wise and knowledgeable. Cal would NEVER discuss things such as disease and poverty, whereas Thomas clearly thought about such matters.

"Why are you marrying him, if you don't love him."

Rose stopped and looked up at him curiously, still holding his hand. "I didn't say I never loved him."

"You didn't have to."

"I- I do love him."

"Really?"

"… and what if I don't? I can't do much about it." Her voice turned solemn.

"How so?"

She began to walk again. He followed her, stroking her hand comfortingly, sensing that she was upset about something.

"Money."

"Money? You're not after him for that are you?"

"I'm not… but my mother is."

"I'm confused." Thomas admitted, furrowing his handsome brow.

Rose lead him over to a couple of deck chairs and took a seat, and he sat beside her, listening as she spoke.

"My father was a gambler, a bad gambler, but he insisted on playing the game. Mother hated him for it, but loved him when he won. He was a good father, but he just didn't know how to be a gentleman. He drank too much, spent money he never had, and made friends with the wrong kind of people…" she stopped. Thomas put a hand on her knee and gripped it reassuringly. She placed her hand on top of his.

"He borrowed money off of a man… I don't know his name, which is for the best, since I would personally track him down and kill him myself… but he borrowed money, and when he couldn't pay it back, he was shot 34 times… 34 times… it was a gang, they all had their own guns… but 34 times?"

"That's terrible, Rose. I'm so sorry."

"Afterward, my mother started her period of grieving… but not for him… for our belongings. She had to sell some of our furniture, our Grand Piano, her wedding dress… anything to make money for paying off our debts… debts my father made in his lifetime."

"It's an arranged marriage… you and Caledon?"

Rose nodded, feeling ashamed, but utterly helpless.

"I can't believe it… a gorgeous and innocent young girl such as yourself being forced to a pig like him!" He ran a hand through her hair, feeling how smooth it was. "You don't deserve this."

A tear ran down her face. "I am still a girl. I want a life. I can't go out with my friends anymore incase I meet another man or do anything to ruin Cal's name. My mother wants me to be a woman… I'm 17, I'm still girl, I want to live my life… You know my dream has always been to just run away and become an artist, living in a garret, poor but free!"

"Oh Rose, you wouldn't last two days! There's no hot water and hardly ever nay caviar." He laughed.

"I happen to hate caviar, and I hate people telling me what dreams I should and shouldn't have!"

"I do apologise." He smiled… secretly, he hated caviar too.

"Everyone expects me to be this delicate little flower which I'm not. I'm sturdy, I'm strong as a horse. I'm here to do something, not just sit around and be decorative. You see these hands? They were made for work!"

Just then, a waiter walked past the couple with a tray of tea. H estopped next to Rose and asked, "Would you care for anything Miss? Some tea? Caviar?"

Unaware that Rose was on a venting of her emotions, she shouted, "No!" and he was soon on his way. Tomas howled with laughter at the unsuspecting waiters face.

"There's something inside me Thomas, like a dynamo. I can feel it, but I don't know what it is. Whether I should become an artist, or a sculptor, or… I don't know…" before Thomas knew what was happening, Rose was up on her feet, with her arms outstretched like a Swan on a Lake, ready to take flight. "Or a dancer! Like Isadora Duncan, a wild Pagan Spirit!" As she spoke, she twirled and leapt over to the railing of the boat deck.

Thomas watched her energy coming alive and erupting out of her like a wind up doll that had been wound up to its full capacity and then held back from doing what it had to do… but now it had been let go, and it was alive!

Rose looked to her left and spotted a man bending over in front of a camera, winding a crank effortlessly. The wooden box stood on three metal poles as he filmed the expanses of the Atlantic Ocean. "Or a moving picture actress!" Rose raced over to the camera man as Thomas followed her. She tapped the man on the shoulder politely and asked, "May I?"

"Oui oui!" The French voice replied cheerily, as he guided her to in front of the camera. Thomas stood by the man's side as he cranked the camera back into motion. Thomas smiled and applauded Rose supportively as she posed for the camera, putting the back of her hand on her forehead and leaning back like a damsel in distress. Then she looked out over the sea, leaning on the railing, and rested her chin upon her hands, as if thinking about a far off land… or dreaming of a not so far off love interest.

They spent the next few hours walking the outer regions of the ship, holding hands, talking, laughing, and Rose for once in her life felt free to do whatever she wanted. The sun was setting now, and the golden sphere in the sky had sunk down beneath the horizon, leaving a shimmering trail of light on the ocean's surface which the Titanic seemed to follow. The sky turned from baby blue, to glowing shades of pink, orange and purple, which would eventually melt into black as the sun vanished altogether.

"You certainly have a fire within you Rose, that's for sure! They'd love you down in 3rd class."

Rose thought for a moment about what he had just said, and then replied, "Take me there."

"Where?"

"3rd class."

"What? I can't take you down there, sweetheart."

"Can't, or won't?" Rose let go of his hand and stared him in the eye, trying to break him. He put up a good fight, but not quite good enough.

"Oh fine then! Come on, we can get dinner down there too."

"What's the cooking like in 3rd class?" Rose asked as he lead her inside.

"Top class!"

"Even down there?"

"Rose, I employed the chefs… the food ANYWHERE on this ship will be top class!" And with that, they were chasing one another to the elevators, about to start their descent into chaos. . .


	7. Chapter 7

The elevator ride down to 3rd class was took no time at all after the lift operator obediently began the downwards journey. As each floor of 1st class passed by the wrought iron gate, Rose felt as if she was watching a slide show of images from her life. Every floor was the same. Elegant music playing. Pretentious laughter echoing. The décor was unnecessarily extravagant, and the lights were too bright and sterile. She held onto Thomas' hand, resting her head on his shoulder occasionally. Neither of them had mentioned their feelings for one another, but it was clear that something was there, so really there was no need to mention it… not on their first date anyway. Rose smiled to herself at this thought.

"Do you come down here often?" Rose asked as the lift glided past 2nd class and further into the mystery in the bowels of the ship.

"I come to the bottom of the ship a lot, for that's where the Titanic's vital machinery is stored. The very things that keep the vessel moving forward… but when I'm not working, I love to unwind and relax down here."

"Really?"

"Oh, of course! The atmosphere down here is contagious."

"It's not the only thing..." Rose said mumbled to herself.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, I tried to get down onto the 3rd class section of the boat deck a few days ago, and I was forbidden, in case one of the passengers had lice."

"Don't worry young Rose. They'll have just told you that to put you off going down. Truth be told, there was a health inspection on the docks the day she set sail, so no one on this ship has lice."

"He lied to me?" Rose put on a dramatic, over the top voice of shock.

"Why I'm afraid so, yes." He laughed.

"Off with his head, I say!" Rose stuck up her nose and imitated her Great Aunt Violet who was the most stuck up woman she knew.

Just then, the lift came to a halt, and the lift operator opened the gate and stood aside for the happy couple. "Good evening, Mr Andrews." He greeted as they left the elevator.

"Good evening, Charles!" He said as he passed him, but he never let go of Roses' hand.

Rose was nervous. "He recognized you." Not many people did, so this surprised her.

"I should hope so, I hired him!" He chuckled.

Rose thought about how these people who react to her… however, if they welcomed Thomas with open arms, then it would be alright. She gripped his hand nervously.

"There's no need to worry, young Rose. They're just people. They wont eat you. They'll be more scared of you than you are of them."

"I'm not scared… Just nervous… what if I don't fit in?"

"Oh trust me Rose, you'll fit in." He winked at her reassuringly, and she felt more relaxed. Just then, she heard noise coming from the end of the hall, behind a large set of double doors. There was a certain beat to it… a rhythm… a melody, and the closer the got, the more Rose could hear.

"What kind of music is that?" Rose asked, perplexed.

"Good old traditional Irish music! Drums, guitars, pan pipe, even spoons and glasses!" he exclaimed.

The music sounded wild and full of energy, and Rose felt her inside moving along to the beat, her outside refusing to move along with it. She had been well trained not to show how she really felt on the outside, and keep it all locked up… but that music, it sounded so free and able to roam these quiet steerage corridors without being told off… and Rose loved it.

They got to the doors, and they could hear the music now, louder than before, and voices could be made out vaguely through the noise.

"Are you ready?" Thomas grinned, putting a strong hand on the door.

"As if I have a choice." Rose laughed anxiously, hearing shouting and a crash from within.

And with that, Thomas had pushed the door open, amplifying the music by an incredible amount as it blasted past them and flooded the hallways, full of personality, expression and variety. Behind the doors was a great hall, in the middle a platform, almost like a stage, and around the edges of the room were tables and chairs. The room was filled with dense crowds, all packed together, but all smiling and laughing and dancing and singing. In the corner, sat the live band, all dressed in the same average clothes as the passengers. The mix of race in this one room amazed Rose. She could here Polish, German, American, British, Scottish, Indian, all having their own conversations and conversing with one another, making the room a buzzing hive of acceptance and diversity and togetherness. Finishing school certainly helped her recognize such languages at an earshot. The smell of stale beer, cigarette smoke and general body odour filled the room. A world away from the world only several decks above.

"Come on in Rose… and shut the door behind you, just in case the rats get out." He joked.

Rose stepped inside after him, closing the heavy door as she walked through a cloud of foul smoke. She choked, and held her breath. It was a strong smell of tobacco, and other substances which her nose was unfamiliar to. Thomas took off his overcoat, threw it over an empty chair carelessly and began to unbutton the top of his shirt to expose his hair covered chest. Rose studied him as he mingled with the crowd expertly, rolling up his sleeves as he made his way to the centre of the room. Men, women and children all knew who he was. They shook his hand and patted his back as he glided through them all like a celebrity, which technically, he was.

Rose walked further in, seeing all faces instantly turn to look at her, but instead of judging her and glaring her down like a cat treading into the wrong territory, they smiled and greeted her whole heartedly. One little girl came over to Rose, gazing at her wide eyed.

"Hello, beautiful!" Rose knelt down to speak to the little girl with reddish brown hair and freckles.

The girl curtsied and said shyly, "I'm Cora, Miss."

"It's a pleasure to meet you Cora, my name is Rose." Rose held out a warm hand, which Cora shook happily, then skipped off like a bolt of lightning. Rose laughed at the immense cuteness and sweet nature of her new found friend. She watched Cora run back over to a man in a shirt, brown trousers and braces, with dirty blonde hair which stuck to his sweaty forehead.

"Ah, Thomas!" another Irish voice called out from the crowd. Rose turned her head to see a young man, older than her, but only by a few years, with curly red hair and a beard coming on.

"Tommy! How are you my son?" They shook hands and hugged.

"I'm fantastic thanks for asking! And you?"

"Never better! I have someone I'd like to introduce you to." Thomas turned around to find Rose. Holding out a hand for her, which she took, he pulled her in close and to his side. "This is Rose DeWitt BuKkater… Rose for short!"

Tommy took her hand and kissed it. He was clearly drunk. "Are you in pain?" He asked.

"I'm sorry?" She was confused.

"Well it must have hurt when you feel from heaven, because you're an angel in my eyes!" He winked and kissed from her hand up her arm. She giggled at his kindness and humour. "Have I introduced you to my friends?"

"I don't believe you have, Tommy."

"I'll be back in a minute!" He held up two fingers, which contradicted the time he had just said. Rose thought that perhaps he couldn't count… or the drink had taken its toll on him. This was confirmed when he tripped over a table on the way over to his friends. Rose laughed out loud hysterically when he got back up, twirled around like a cartoon character and then pressed on.

"How do you know him?"

"We started talking the other day, before the ship set sail. His Irish charm caught my attention. He's a strong lad. Might consider asking him to work for me in the Harland and Wolf shipyards."

Rose watched the fatherly look in her man's eyes as he watched Tommy make his way back, smiling with pride, until he slipped on a spilt pint of beer. "Hopefully he's more steady on his feet when sober."

"Rose, Thomas, these are my buddies, Jack and Fabrizio!" He presented an Italian man, and the handsome blonde haired boy from the other day. The one who was staring at her when she was out on deck. She shook their hands. Fabrizio was happy to meet her, asking her questions which she didn't really hear over the music, or understand with his accent. Jack shook her hand slightly, smiling faintly, and stayed quiet. He didn't really look her in the eyes either. Nerves perhaps? Although he had enough bravery to stare at her hypnotically before now. She shrugged it off, and walked over to Thomas.

"Rose is joining us from 1st class, of course. She wanted to see how us REAL men party."

"You sure you can handle it?" Tommy slurred.

Rose looked at the table next to her, spotted a pint of lager, picked it up, and downed half of it instantly. She grabbed the butterfly hair clip, pulled it from her hair, and let the ginger locks roam free. "Try me!"

The men laughed, and clinked their glasses, Rose joining on, and Thomas took his girl for a wild dance around the room, jumping and spinning in time with the music, those strong builders arms guiding her through the crowds. Tommy and Fabrizio looked at one another, shrugged, and took each other by the waist and hand, tangoing across the floor, making everyone howl hysterically. Jack took a seat and watched them all dance and sing and laugh… watched Rose… watched Thomas… and he sat alone, silently sulking.

Rose and Thomas spent hours down in 3rd class, socializing with the other passengers, dancing, drinking, smoking, getting to know one another more. Thomas had told Rose how his father got him into the art of ship design and ship building, and when he died, his legacy was handed down to his teenage son, who kept the business going and eventually surpassed his own fathers reputation by creating such ships as this. She also heard of how his first love, Emilia, died of cancer many years ago, and he had never met another girl like her to fill the hole in his. This touched Rose, and before she could console him, Tommy and Fabrizio had pulled them into a spinning frenzy of celebration and alcohol… something they had probably drank too much of.

The walked along the boat deck, singing merrily, holding hands still, Rose holding her heels in her other hand, and around her shoulders was Thomas' overcoat, which he had offered to her in true gentleman's fashion as they approached the bitter breeze on deck. The night was dark and cold, and the four funnels that stood high above them puffed steam high into the starry sky. Just then, Rose saw the glowing white sign for the First Class Entrance. The sign she hadn't missed one bit tonight. They stopped slowly, and Rose let go of his hand to face him. The realization of where they were, within the boundaries of their strict society, made her feel self-conscious, and question whether she was doing the right thing or not.

"Well here we are." She said, almost sadly. She took off the coat and handed it to him.

He took it, slowly. "You're right." His smile dropped ever so slightly.

She stared at him for a moment, thinking of the immense fun and joy she had just experienced with him. Her fringe hung over her face somewhat, moving in the wind softly. "I don't want to go back." She admitted.

Just then, she glanced up, and opened her mouth in awe when she saw the masses of stars twinkling above her, like sequins on a black ball gown. "Look… it's so beautiful."

"It is indeed."

She began to walk over to the edge of the ship, holding onto one of the funnels stay cables, spinning round it as she adored the sky. "It's so vast and endless, and we're so small. My crowd… they think they're giants. They're not even dust in God's eye."

He listened to her wise words, knowing that she was rather good at handling her drink. "You know, there's been a mistake. You're not one of them… YOU got mailed to the wrong address." He flicked her nose with his finger affectionately.

She laughed loudly, "I did, didn't I? . . . Look! A shooting star!" She pointed to a silver line that appeared above them suddenly and raced across the blackness.

"That was a long one… you know, my Father used to tell me that every time you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven."

Rose watched him as his face went deep in thought, remembering his dear father. She smiled, "I like that… aren't we supposed to make a wish on it?" Rose looked up into his eyes, awaiting a reply.

He looked down at hers, the deep blue pools sparkling like ice, her smiling white teeth shining like stars. "Why… what would you wish for?" he asked in a hushed tone.

There was a moment of silence as Rose pondered on the question, before answering in a whisper, "Something I can't have."

Her smile slowly faded, and her eyes looked around his handsome face, taking in everything about him. Putting a hand on his shoulder briefly she said, "Goodnight, Thomas." And then hurried off towards the First Class Entrance, fighting the urge to look back.

He put out a hand, as if attempting to grab her and pull her to his chest, but she was gone. He fought the urge to go after her, and instead, he watched her silhouette vanish into the warmth and brightness of her everyday life… a life he knew she didn't want.


	8. Chapter 8

A sense of rebellion and secrecy coursed throw Roses' veins as she crept back into bed, next to a deeply sleeping Cal. 1st class women change outfits about 4 times a day. Rose had worn the same outfit for lunch right through to bed time. She felt filthy, but a good kind of filth… if that was possible.

She missed Thomas, and she wanted him here, but now, looking around the room, seeing her Monet paintings, her clothes, her furniture, and her fiancée sleeping next to her, she knew that this was her life, and Mr Andrews was her fantasy. She may have liked him a lot, but she couldn't act upon these feelings. Things were bad, but surely that would only make things worse. Why did she always do her thinking when lying in bed, because it ended up in her unable to sleep.

That night in 3rd class had been perfect. It was as if she had woken up in her own bed after having an insanely satisfying dream. Being with Thomas was like being inside a dream or something… there was truth, but no logic.

Eventually, Rose did get to sleep, and when she woke up, she had a terribly sore head and a deadly dry mouth. Her stomach was on the fine line between a hungry rumble and a rumble warning her to get to a toilet just in case she was sick. Drink was something she handled well at the time of drinking, but not in the morning. She rolled over, and over, and over again, until she realized that Cal was not in bed. He was up already? That wasn't like Cal. Normally he needed Trudy to wake him when it grew too late, or perhaps the sound of Rose stirring, hoping that she was feeling frisky enough for a romantic Good Morning. But today, he was up.

Walking out of the bedroom and into the private promenade deck, she saw Cal, standing by the window, staring out to sea. She knew he knew that his wife-to-be was in the room, but he stayed deadly silent. She spoke first. "Are you alright, Cal?"

He remained quiet, but this silence was deafening.

"I was thinking that you'd have stayed in bed, with it being a Sunday… the day of rest after all." She laughed lightly.

"And I was thinking that you would have been back earlier last night."

Rose was caught off guard. "Why… I was busy."

Cal laughed to himself, "Busy?"

"Yes… I was with friends."

"Friends?... friends?"

"I was… What's the problem, Cal?" Rose walked towards him, curious as to what was the matter. Cal turned to face her, a glass of whisky in his hand. "You're drinking… at this time?"

"Were you drinking last night, or did someone accidentally spill beer all over your dress? And what time were you drinking til?"

"I may have been drinking… and I may not have…What business is it of yours?"

That was it. Cal threw the glass to the floor, smashing it instantly, the brown liquid inside splashing everywhere. He gritted his teeth and stormed towards her, grabbing her by the throat and pushing her against the wall. "What business is it of mine? It's all my business! You're my business! The money that got you onto this ship to drink yourself silly all came from MY business!"

Rose began to choke, staring into her fiancées wild eyes as he tightened his grip and spat in her face, blind with rage. "Cal! You're hurting me!" She squealed.

Shocked by the realization of what he was doing, he let her go. "And why shouldn't I? You let me down!"

"What are you talking about?" Rose held her neck fearfully, soothing the pain.

"Last night, whilst you were out gallivanting, I was in this bedroom by 9 o'clock, awaiting the arrival of my radiant bride to be… and I was left waiting… and waiting… and WAITING!" he shouted in her face.

Suddenly, Rose remembered what she had promised him, to be back to the room by 9 o'clock, because he had promised her a surprise. "Cal… I completely forgot! I'm so sorry!" She ran over to him, and took him by the hands, trying to calm him. "I didn't mean to upset you, I genuinely forgot! I wouldn't dare aggravate you intentionally…" She rubbed her neck. "…I don't think anyone would."

Cal listened to her apology, and looked at her nearly watering eyes. Her young, porcelain face looked scared, and her neck was red from the hold that had been restricting her for so long, and would remain to do so. "Well… that's alright then."

He walked over to the breakfast table and sat down in one of the wicker chairs, running his hands over his face and through his hair, full of stress. He looked up, thinking, looking conflicted with himself and his thoughts. Finally, he spoke. "Lovejoy saw you yesterday…" he couldn't finish his sentence.

"And?"

"He saw you… with Mr Andrews." Cal shut his eyes as he said his name, as if a secret arrow had pierced his heart.

Rose's own heart began to climb up her throat. This was it. The beginning of the end. She had been caught out. "When?" She asked, her voice quavering.

"I'm unsure, but it was during dinner… I've seen the way you look at him… where did you go?"

"We went…" she couldn't lie to him. He would find out, but how would the truth satisfy him? She had nothing to lose. "We went down to 3rd class… to a party."

"So you weren't alone with him?"

Rose shook her head.

" You were with others?"

"Yes. Many others… not alone… they're all lovely people down there." She tried to change the subject.

"Their loveliness won't rid them of their filth… how did you get back to 1st class."

"Thom-… Mr Andrews walked me back up from steerage."

"So you were alone with him?"

"For a moment alone, yes."

"Well then it's not as you told me." Cal stood up, doubting her somewhat.

Rose stood her ground. "For a moment, I swear… I came back to the bedroom soon after."

Cal stared her down, then something inside him gave up and he turned his back to her dismissively. "Do as you wish."

"Cal… I'll not have your suspicion." She didn't feel she had done anything wrong.

"I have no-"

"Cal!" She shouted him down, knowing that he was trying to make her feel bad for enjoying herself last night. Something inside her had come to life last night, and it hadn't died away just yet. She had never stood up to him before. "I'll not have it!"

"Then let you not earn it!" he looked around and glared her in the eye.

"You still doubt me?" She asked him.

He started for the door, Rose edging away slightly in case he tried to choke her again. "If it were Thomas you had to meet at a specific time, would you falter then?" and he disappeared into the bedroom.

"Now look here Cal, nothing happened!" she wished it had now. He had nearly strangled her a moment ago, and now he was accusing her of sleeping with another man.

"I see what I see, Rose." He continued to walk, heading for the walk in wardrobe.

"You will NOT judge me! Let you look to your own improvement before you go to judge your fiancée anymore!" She pointed a stern finger at him, her voice filled with insult. He didn't seem to take in what she was saying as he opened his safe.

"I have a right to judge the woman who will be permanently on my arm after our marriage… how will it make me look when you are cavorting with other men?"

"It could be seen as evening the score." Rose replied coldly. "I had almost forgotten about Bianca."

The mention of the prostitutes name made Cal cringe. "And I."

"oh Cal, spare me! You forgive nothing and forget nothing! Learn charity. I have gone tiptoe in this arranged marriage these past eight months since she's gone. I have not moved from there to there without thinking to please you and Mother, and still an everlasting funeral marches round your heart!" She stood by the door of the promenade deck window, the early morning sun shining warmly on her back.

He walked out of the dark shadows of the wardrobe, holding a small, cold, box made of black velvet. "Rose, you are not open with me. First you say you were with a party of people, then you say you were on deck alone, and-"

"I'll plead my honesty no more!"

"Rose, I only-"

"I should have roared mother down the day she made you propose to me, but like a good Christian girl I wilted, and I gave into her master plan. Some dream I had must have made me mistake you God that day, but you're not. You're not! And let you remember that!"

He approached her, sensing her distress. He understood why Ruth was arranging the marriage, but he was wealthy enough to support her, and he liked the trophy wife which was his reward. "I do not judge you… I always thought you a good girl and an obedient wife… only somewhat bewildered." He opened the box to reveal a sparkling silver necklace, and attached to it, a heart shaped diamond, dark blue in colour, and glimmering like treasure in his hands. "And I hope to be a good husband… If you'll give me a chance."

Rose was overwhelmed by the beautiful diamond which was staring at her temptingly. "You think you can buy my love?"

"No… I don't… but I can buy your mother, and unfortunately, you're part of the package… you have no say."

Rose was trapped. She knew it. Standing up to him had done nothing. A good husband? He could never be a good husband. Not even the prostitute thought he was a good client. And as she stood there staring at the necklace, the pain around her neck intensified… she couldn't jump ship now. This marriage was going to happen.


	9. Chapter 9

April 14th 1912 – 1pm

Thomas skipped down the grand staircase two steps at a time, happily thinking about last night. Rose was a wild one, and he loved that about her. And she did something that he had never seen a young 1st class girl do. She socialized with the lower classes, hugging them, shaking their hands, kissing them on the cheek, sharing their drinks and cigarettes. Not even stories of rats could sway her. She was the perfect woman in Thomas' eyes. However, when they parted, he could tell she was torn between what to do and what not to do, and he completely understood her dilemma.

Descending down every set of stairs from The 1st class entrance right down to E – Deck into the 1st class dining saloon took a while, which was why he went down two steps at a time. The lower he got, the more he could hear that Sunday's church service, echoing through the empty rooms and corridors.

He jumped off the last step and looked around him. It was like a ghost ship. Every voice in unison singing hymns could be heard from across the room. He knew Rose would be in there, for Ruth would not miss another chance to be with her socialite friends… she wasn't very religious at all. Peering in the window, he saw Rose, standing next to Cal and her mother by her side, trapped between them both. She looked stunning in her dark blue dress with its tight fitting corset and flowing layers, her red hair curled and left to trail down her back and shoulders. But even as they sang of hope and joy, she looked utterly miserable.

"Can we help you, Mr Andrews?" One of the two men guarding the door asked.

"No, no, I'm alright… I'll come back later."

The man nodded and went back to his place of duty.

Thomas turned, knowing he had his own duties to do up in the wheelhouse, concerning ice fields and planning a safer route for the ship to take, just in case. He started up the stairs again, and heard footsteps coming down towards him. Looking up, he saw a familiar young face.

"Hello, Mr Andrews!"

"Hello Jack." He was confused. What was Jack doing here? This wasn't his part of the ship, not now during a church service anyway. He shrugged it off, unsure of Jack's plans, and continued on his way.

He was a flight up, when suddenly, he heard shouting from below, interrupting the angelic beauty of the passengers singing voices.

"Let me in you son of a bitch!" The sound of doors rattling made Thomas jump, and he raced down the stairs, leaping each flight from one to the next.

He got back to the double doors leading into the church service, and there he saw one of the two men guarding the door with a bloody nose, the other restraining Jack, and the frightened passengers, including Captain Smith and Bruce Ismay all watching in abject horror. He stormed over to the insane boy.

"What on God's Earth are you doing, lad?" He asked furiously. "Are you alright?" he asked the bleeding young man in the suit.

"Aye, I'm fine. It's him that's needin' checked over! He's got a screw loose or somethin'!"

Jack went for him again, and Thomas grabbed him by the shoulders. "Jack, whatever's wrong, this isn't the right thing to be doing." He spoke in a hushed tone, trying to calm him.

"And you think that what you're doing is right?" Jack screamed into his face. Thomas looked into his eyes, filled with rage, and then over Jack's shoulder at Rose, who was watching the spectacle unfold, completely oblivious to what was happening.

"What are you talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! The girl, Rose! I told you how I felt, I told you! I told you the first day I saw her that I was gonna try and speak to her, and you're screwing her behind my back?"

"You wash your mouth with soap you presumptuous little bastard… this is neither the time, nor the place." Thomas whispered.

"Oh, so NOW you have standards?"

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Her! She's engaged, and you're walking around with her and taking her on the grand tour of your great creation like she's all yours!" Jack pointed behind him, still being restrained, and singled out the young red head. Everybody in the room turned their heads to stare at Rose, who turned bright pink with shame, but still filled with fear. She was being talked about, but she didn't know what was happening.

Cal leaned over to his young trophy wife and whispered, "So there's another man I don't know about."

"Cal I don't know him… I think his name's Jack, but I don't know him... what does he want?" She was genuinely frightened, and even Cal could see this.

"There's only one way to find out." In a second, Cal had elegantly slipped out of the neatly formed row of hymn singers, breaking away from the divinity, and was now on a mission to destroy the competition, all of which seemed to be fighting over HIS fiancée. He swung the door open forcefully and stormed out of the room. "What is going on out here?" Cal asked Mr Andrews.

"Cal, this is Jack. He's a troubled young boy and-"

"Not as troubled as you!" Jack tried to break free from his capture, who at that moment said, "Henry, go fetch the Master at Arms, and hurry! This guy's stark raving mad!" his bloody nosed friend obeyed and ran off.

"So Jack… what appears to be the problem?" Cal questioned calmly. As he did so, Captain Smith ordered that the church service resume. The organ began to play, and every mouth began to sing again, but every eye remained focussed on the drama outside.

"Well Cal, this fine gentleman here I believe is a little bit too familiar with your fiancée." Jack said politely, as if trying to befriend him.

"You believe so?"

"I do."

Jack and Cal both glared at Thomas coldly, who stood and accepted their judgemental stares like a man.

"I know that you and Rose have become close… you both went down to 3rd class last night… and that's all I know. What happened between lunch time and midnight is beyond me… but I hope Mr Andrews, for your sake, that my wife-to-be is just as pure as she was before she began socializing with you." He began advancing towards him threateningly, his eyes piercingly hateful and his teeth gritted. "If you've turned her from me, or warped her mind in any way, shape or form, I will come down on you so hard and fast that if you blink you'll miss it!" He spat into Thomas' face.

All Thomas could think was, _"I don't need to turn her from you. You did a fine job of that yourself."_

"Aren't you gonna beat him up?" Jack asked Cal, almost disappointedly.

"Why should I? I have no proof that he is doing my office. All I have is what Rose has told me, and now you… but I think I'd believe a white dove over a gutter rat any day." Cal looked him up and down distastefully and headed back into the church service.

"But I'm trying to help you Cal! You need me!" He wriggled and squirmed angrily to try and get out of the grip the man behind him had.

"No… I think you'll find YOU need ME… because even I can see that you want Rose, and befriending me is the easiest way to get to her… and there is NO way I am letting any of you near her again!"

"What are you saying?" Thomas asked curiously.

"I'm saying that she's mine, and it shall stay that way, or so God help me the Atlantic Ocean will become the Red Sea!"

"You can't just keep her hidden away, Caledon. She's not a toy!"

"Well if she's not a toy, Mr Andrews, why do you feel that I should share her?"

Thomas fell silent again.

"If there's one thing I've learned in this world which has got me to where I am today, it's this: NEVER share your toys with anyone… because they WILL steal them off you, and when you get them back, they'll be broken… Rose is mine!"

And with that, he slammed the door behind him and joined the rest of the 1st class passengers as they came to end of their current hymn, 'Eternal Father Strong to Save.'

Rose watched Thomas walk off, looking defeated. Cal entered the room again looking as if he had won a war. And as she watched Jack get pulled away by officers, kicking and screaming, she sang, "O hear us when we cry to Thee, for those in peril on the sea."


	10. Chapter 10

**April 14****th**** 1912 – 4:00pm**

Ruth and Cal sat in the private promenade, drinking tea and awaiting Rose's return from the bathroom. Ruth looked at her pocket watch and then up at Cal. "Aren't we supposed to be getting a tour of the boat deck from Mr Andrews today?"

Cal kept glaring past her and out to sea. He replied emotionlessly, "He's busy."

"Is that what you were discussing with him earlier?"

He nodded.

"I see." she sensed a restrained tension. "And who was that wild young man trying to get into the church service?"

"Just a spec of dirt from the Titanic's lower classes. The filthy scum was trying to rob us all."

Ruth gasped. "Oh my! That's dreadful! What have they done with him?"

"_Thrown him overboard hopefully."_ Cal murmured.

"What was that?"

"Locked him up in the bowels of the ship somewhere." Cal could see the worry on her face. "It's alright, Ruth… he'll not be stealing anything from us anytime soon… I've made sure of it."

Ruth settled slightly and smiled, pushing her empty tea cup aside, signalling Trudy to pour her another. "I'm glad we have you Cal. We can always rely on you. And my girl… Rose is a changed woman." She beamed at the thought of her daughter.

"Oh… she most certainly is." Cal continued to dunk a biscuit into his tea repetitively, drenching it, until it became too uneven in weight, unable to support itself, and snapped in half, sinking down into the hot liquid, bubbles surfacing.

"Did you say she was in the bathroom?"

"Yes... 'powdering her nose' or whatever it is you women like to do."

Ruth giggled, "She's taking her time."

"That she is… Rose?" he called through to her… no reply... he waited, and then repeated, "Rose?" Cal was losing patience, and Ruth noticed.

"I'll go get her, shall I?" Ruth excused herself and walked through the bedroom, past the walk in wardrobe, and knocked on the en suite door. "Rose? You're keeping us waiting; I want to see this new necklace of yours."

Rose sat inside, on the edge of the bathtub, holding the necklace in her hands. It was a dreadful heavy thing. She would only ever wear it this once. She wasn't one for over the top extravagance. She preferred simple things. She always wore her gold crucifix around her neck, and that was enough for her. But this heart shaped diamond was a cold stone. A heart of ice. And as she heard her mother persist through the door, she finally realized that she had to obey her masters orders, and wear the collar like a good little bitch, rolling over on his every whim… after all, a dog is nothing without the man who feeds and homes it.

The door opened, and Rose walked out, wearing the blue jewel.

Ruth's jaw almost hit the floor. "Good gracious! Is it a-"

"Diamond? Yes." Cal answered her question, clearly impressed by his own generosity. "56 karats to be exact." He walked over to the two women dominantly, staring at the silver choker around Rose's neck. "It was worn by Louis the Sixteenth, and he called it 'La Cur De La Mer'."

"The heart of the ocean." Rose said, almost laughing at the ironic lack of heart in the room.

"I was saving it for the engagement gala, but I thought that Rose deserved a treat."

Now Rose did laugh slightly. '_A treat_'? Her dog analogy was supported further.

"It's too much Cal, truly." Ruth was almost drooling over the lump of blue hanging from the noose around her daughters neck.

"Yes Cal… FAR too much." Rose glared at him.

"Nonsense! It's for royalty, and we are royalty Rose."

Rose scoffed. Her mother noticed, and tapped her arm sternly before whispering, _"Rose, you can whine and complain all you want, but not when he's standing in the very same room!"_

Her daughter rolled her eyes, not taking in what she said. "And yet he can criticize and insult anyone he wants to their face? Double standards comes to mind."

"On the brink of poverty comes to my mind." Cal said coldly. Ruth and Rose both turned their heads in shock to stare at him. He was so blunt that each time he spoke, it was as if an unsharpened sword was being forced into Roses' side… and when he reminded Ruth of her money worries, she wished the sword would end it all.

Ruth spoke first. "Cal… you _do_ love my daughter… don't you? Why else would you buy her such finery?" She was trying to convince Rose, but more than that, she was trying to convince herself.

He hesitated, looked at them both briefly, and then turned his back, heading for the private promenade. "Of course, yes! She knows I do."

"_Beloved sweetheart bastard..._" Rose muttered to herself, smiling sweetly. Ruth took one last look of the diamond, and then said,

"Cal is going to the Smoking Lounge to discuss business endeavours, and The Countess and I were going to take a stroll around the Promenade before dinner. Clean yourself up and get dressed... I'll expect you to dine with us tonight."

"I will dine with you mother…" she started for the walk in wardrobe, then finished, "… although I won't pretend to enjoy myself."

Ruth went to stop her, but had to stop herself. She understood that Rose was feeling under pressure… but the piles of papers lying in her drawers back home, including death threats and payment reminders… that was enough pressure of her own…

**April 14****th**** 1912 – 6:30pm**

Thomas sat in his cabin, scribbling on his countless notes and blueprints of the ship. He didn't have much to do… in fact, he was starting to ramble… he didn't know what he as writing. Picking up several of the sheets, he scrunched them up in his hands and threw them at the door. Truth be told, he was trying to distract himself from thinking about Rose. She had been on his mind for days now, and after last night, he knew that she was perfect for him… but they could never be together. Not only was Rose being engaged an issue, but the age difference was an issue. Thomas knew she was young, but she was wise and full of life, and Thomas didn't act his age anyway. As far as he was concerned, they were a match made in heaven, and he knew she wanted him… she just couldn't have him. And Jack did indeed tell him in confidence that he was attracted greatly to the red headed beauty from 1st class, but after Thomas had luncheon with this red headed beauty, he couldn't help how he felt… and Rose was worth more than Jack… especially after seeing how angry he got today. Thomas was not a violent man, he couldn't be. The only time his temper showed was in times of great stress… that was now. He didn't know what he was writing anymore, and the sweet symphony that had been flowing from his pen for the past 4 days had now run dry… he was empty.

A knock at the door made him turn. "Come in." He wished for it desperately to be Rose.

A steward came in with a food cart, plates and trays of food for Mr Andrews especially. "I heard that you wouldn't be attending dinner tonight, so…"

"Thank you, James… just leave it there, I'll eat it when I'm a little more hungry."

"It's not like you to turn your back to a 7 course meal." He laughed lightly. "Are you alright, Sir?"

"Yes… yes, I will be." He stood up and stretched, realizing just how long he had been sitting down for. He looked at James. Young, late-twenties, early thirties perhaps, with perfectly chiselled features and slicked back brown hair, and piercing blue eyes. "Do you have a girl of your own, son?"

"Not yet Mr Andrews, Sir. Still searching." He stood in his black trousers and sharp white jacket, with his arms behind his back, looking as if he was in an army line up.

"Relax son, I'll not bite you." Thomas grinned. "Take a seat, I could use the company."

"Well technically I'm off duty til 7. You were just my first port of call before the rush hour in the Dining Saloon begins." James took a seat in the arm chair at the bottom of Mr Andrews bed, and Thomas sat on the chair next to him. "Why did you ask if I had a girl, Sir?"

"Oh, no reason… it's just… you're a fine young man, you have your whole life ahead of you to find the right girl for you… so take your time, and make sure you find the right one."

"I had a girl."

"Oh did you now?" Thomas winked, "Lucky devil… what happened to her?"

James looked down at his well-polished shoes and replied, "She died in a house fire… our house… we had just bought it. I've worked my whole life, from a boy to the man I am today, and just when I had it all… I lost it."

Thomas put a hand on his knee and squeezed it comfortingly. "I'm so sorry, James… truly."

"It's fine… it was a long time ago now."

"I know how you feel… I had a girl a long time ago now… Emilia. Oh, she was more than a girl, she was a woman! Burning red hair, white alabaster skin, deep pools of blue in her eyes… outside she was flawless, but inside, she was ill."

"How ill?"

"Cancer… just about as ill as one can get… she put up a good fight… but not good enough."

"I'm sorry."

Thomas was silent for a moment, and then shook his head, waking up from his trip down memory lane. "Oh look at us! Two perfectly fine specimen of the male species and we're dwelling on the bad. What about the future?"

"What about it?"

"Oh James, look around you. We're on The Titanic… This IS the future! We're moving on. Plenty more fish in the sea… we just need to find the ones worth catching." He punched James' arm, and he laughed.

"Well in my short time on this Earth-"

"It's not that short."

"It is compared to you." James said jokingly.

"Hey you! I'm not so old that I can't give you a good beating!"

"Of course you're not… but, as I was saying… I've been on this Earth long enough to know that if you want something, you grab it with both hands before you lose it, because you only live once, so live each day as if it were your last… I think we both know better than anyone that you never know what day could be your last."

Thomas nodded. "Well said, James."

James held out a hand for Mr Andrews, and he stood up, holding out his arms, and they hugged. Thomas had always wanted a son... When Emilia died, she took one little life with her.

"Thank you, Sir."

"For what?"

"For taking a chance on me… letting me work on this ship."

"You're a good lad, James… you deserve a break."

James smiled and headed for the door, "Enjoy your meal, Mr Andrews."

Thomas stopped him. "James!"

He popped his head back into the room. "Yes?"

"You said to live each day as if it were your last… do you think you've done that yourself?"

James thought on this question for a moment before saying, "Yes… yes, I believe I have… Look where I am! I've gone from being a trapper in a mine to working in complete class… if I died tonight I would die a happy man, Mr Andrews… all thanks to you. Good night, Sir." And then, he was gone, to serve the passengers on the ship he had grown to love like a second home.

"_If you want something, you grab it with both hands before you lose it…" _Thomas thought on what James had said, and he was right… Thomas wanted Rose… he wanted her more than anything.


	11. Chapter 11

**April 14****th**** 1912 – 7:30pm**

Rose sat in her cabin staring into her mirror in a trance. She had been sitting like this for God only knows how long, completely distracted from the real world. She was busy imagining a life where she could be with who she wanted and be free to do what she wanted. Those kinds of things didn't come so easily. Money could buy you everything, except happiness.

She sat the brush down, knowing now that her mother and Cal would be expecting her for dinner. She walked into the wardrobe, which was more like a room itself with the size of it, and she skimmed through her countless outfits, dresses and shoes, trying to find something she wanted to wear… she didn't want to wear any of it. She would rather just stay the way she was now… completely naked.

She felt so comfortable and unrestricted by tight corsets and materials, holding her like a monster from the closet, slowly suffocating her. Every dress she saw dissatisfied her… until she saw one particular dress that she had purchased in London. With its thin, almost transparent layers of white, lavender and pale pink, with trails and ribbons on the back… no corset… no tight laces… perfect.

She walked out of the wardrobe wearing the dress and a pair of white high heels. The mirror ahead of her approved greatly with Roses' reflection. The flowing dress hugged her body lightly, and as she twirled round, the light layers swirled around with her like a trail of casual elegance. Her hair, burning as bright as ever, had been curled and hung freely over her shoulders and back. Knowing that she was undressed under this simple item of clothing pleased Rose. Normally, she was wearing more layers than an Eskimo in the Antarctic… but not now. Now she felt simple, and honest, and true.

She looked at the clock. It was almost 8 o'clock. Dinner had started an hour ago, and Cal would be searching for her soon. If not him, then his henchman Lovejoy, or "Killjoy" as Rose liked to call him… she couldn't be bothered with any of them, and the only man on her mind right now was Thomas… what had Cal said to him earlier? And why did he look so upset as he walked away? Instantly, Rose knew what she had to do.

Walking out into the empty hallway and locking the door behind her, she started to make her way towards the stairwell at the end of the hall, which lead up to the cabins on A-Deck. She could hear calming music travelling through the air from the Dining Saloon's string quartet. Music she loved to listen to, but not when it was enhancing the strict atmosphere of life around her.

Feeling how loose fitting her dress was, she began to run. Not knowing why, or where exactly, but that didn't matter. She knew roughly where she was going, but the feeling of her hair trailing behind her and her dress billowing like sheets in the wind was enough to make her laugh giddily. She felt like a little girl again. She hadn't run like this since her last day of finishing school, when she fled the school gates that had imprisoned her for her entire young life, and raced into her father's arms. Those were the days she wanted to relive. The hallways were all abandoned and silent, but even if they weren't, Rose wouldn't care. She felt free, and that was good enough for her. She had had enough of people judging her and scrutinizing every independent move she made. Now it was time to make her own choices, and this choice could either make or break Rose… that was a chance she was willing take.

Thomas paced back and forth, looking at the clock. It was almost 8pm. Everyone, including Rose, would be at dinner. He couldn't go find her. That would infuriate Cal even more than he already was. Perhaps he should just sit and wait… do nothing… no! He had sat around and done nothing ever since Emilia died. Not even Emilia would want him to ignore his hearts desires. If Rose made him happy, then that would have been good enough for Emilia.

He had done enough thinking. It was time to take action. He walked over to the door, placed a hand on the doorknob and was about to open the door when suddenly, there was a polite knock. Unsure as to who this could be, he waited a moment, trying to guess. James? He began to open to door, and there, standing in the hallway, looking somewhat out of breath and wild, was his girl.

"Rose?" He was shocked.

"Thomas!" She ran toward him and wrapped her arms around him. He hesitated, feeling Cal's threat stabbing him in the ear… but she was holding him so tight… he brought his arms down and held her close, his warm embrace making her feel safe at last.

"Rose, what are you doing here?"

"I had to see you, I had to!" She clung to him desperately, taking in the smell of his overcoat and the touch of his arms around her body.

"Rose, I want to see you too… but…"

Rose stood back and looked at him, "But what?" what was he trying to say. Had she wasted her time.

Thomas looked up and down the hallway and then said quietly, "Come in, come in, we can't discuss this out here."

He took Rose by the shoulder and guided her into the room… a room she knew all too well… not that he knew that. His papers were all over the floor tonight, and everything looked out of place and disorganized. He must have been having an off day.

"Rose, earlier during the church service, I came to see you."

"But Cal got to you first?"

"Indeed he did…" He trailed off, thinking about Cal's words, then turned his back and stared at the wall. "Rose, we can't do this."

"What? Why? . . . what did he say to you?" Rose took a step forward.

"He… he said enough." Thomas turned around to see the beautiful young Rose standing before him, the soft glow of the chandelier illuminating her like a fiery headed angel. She was perfect… perhaps too perfect for him. "Rose, you're engaged."

"Un-happily." Rose protested.

"But engaged never-the-less!" He was torn, and shouted slightly. Rose could see the turmoil inside him, as he debated what to do. "What kind of man would it make me?"

Rose came in closer, "What do you mean, Thomas?"

"Cal is a bastard… we all know it. But if we act upon how we feel, then you and I are no better than him."

"Thomas… he ruined any scrap of dignity I had for him when he paid for a prostitute's services."

"He what?" Mr Andrews was disgusted.

"Her name was Bianca… I refused to sleep with him early into the engagement, so since he couldn't buy me, he bought her." Rose looked away, bashfully.

"I'm sorry."

She laughed out loud, "Please, don't apologize. What society doesn't know can't hurt me… and I lost no sleep over it… whatever Cal decides to waste his money on is not my problem."

Thomas stepped towards Rose slowly, taking in her smiling face with his kind brown eyes. "How do you do that?" he asked, stroking her face gently.

Rose held his hand to her face. "Do what?"

"That! what you're doing now."

She laughed lightly, "What am I doing?"

Thomas leaned forward, looming over her like a Willow Tree, protecting its young sapling, "You stay so strong and independent and cheerful… even though you're being pushed into into a life that will drown you eventually."

"I'm not as strong as you think."

"How so?"

She thought about the pain she had felt recently… feeling trapped… with no way out… until now. "The other night, when you found me in the hallway…"

"Yes?"

"I was going to go up to the boat deck…" Thomas was silent, and listened to her speak as her eyes began to tear up. "I was just tired, and lonely, and I felt so weak… I couldn't breathe… I was going to end it all... end my life." She couldn't look at him, ashamed of what she had planned to do, knowing now it was foolish.

"You weren't." He was stunned.

"I was… I was going to head to the stern and jump right into the Ocean, and let this life of luxury go on without me."

"Oh, young Rose..." He spoke sympathetically as a tear rolled down her pink cheek. He hugged her so tightly and she cherished the moment. "What stopped you?"

"You did… You found me, and you made me realize that life can be worth the struggle… if there's something worth fighting for."

"You can't go on feeling like that darling. What do want, Rose? What will make you happy?"

Rose removed her head from his shoulder and looked up at him, putting her arms around his neck, and she whispered softly, "You."

Before they knew it, they were sharing the most passionate kiss that either of them had experienced in a long time. Thomas pulled away, breathing heavily, "I want you more than anything my sweetheart… but are you sure about this?"

"I've not been so sure about anything in my whole life."

"People will talk." He warned.

"People always talk, so let's give them something to talk about!" They both laughed, and then continued to stare romantically into each other's eyes, "What society doesn't know can't hurt me… and society doesn't have to know what we wish for on a shooting star."

Rose went in for another kiss, and their tongues intertwined, their saliva mixing, their bodies pressed close together. He worked his manly hands from her hair, down her arms, to the small of her back and onto her hips, feeling every inch of her body on the way down. Rose stroked his salt and pepper hair and ran her hands over the back of his neck, caressing his jawline and absorbing every minute detail of this kiss. She could taste him. She could feel him. She could see and hear and smell him, and as long as it stayed that way, nothing else mattered.


	12. Chapter 12

**April 14****th**** 1912 – 11:00pm**

Rose and Thomas lay in his bed, holding each other closely, their sweating, naked bodies pressed together under the silk sheets. She rested her head upon his strong, hairy chest and listened to his heartbeat, stroking his stomach as he breathed heavily. He ran his fingers through her hair and planted a kiss on her head, adoringly.

"Rose…"

"Yes, Thomas?"

He was silent for a moment, catching his breath. "Who the hell taught you to perform like that in bed?" He laughed.

She giggled, "Naturally gifted I guess… I do remember Cal saying something along the lines of, 'women needn't work, for their shift begins when the lights are off.'"

"Well, as sexist and crude as that is… I'd definitely be promoting you after that shift."

They both laughed, and Thomas sat up, bringing his arms over her, and began tickling her, making her shriek with hysterical giggles. She jumped up, grabbed a cloud-like pillow and began defending herself, watching his muscular, tanned, hairy body rising from the bed, moving like a God across those sheets. Rose had just felt, tasted, heard, seen, smelt perfection. She was in heaven, and she didn't want to leave. Imprisonment with Cal was a life sentence she couldn't bear… but to be in heaven with Thomas was an eternal pleasure she would love.

Ruth was sitting in her cabin, which was just across the hall from Rose and Cal's. Her daughter hadn't turned up at dinner, and this terrified Ruth. Not only because she didn't know where she was, but she knew that Cal was furious. When she was an hour late, she tried convincing him that she would show up eventually, saying that "She's simply trying to find a suitable outfit to match that divine rock around her neck." This made him calm for a while… but when she had missed all 7 courses that was the final straw. He had sat with clenched fists and gritted teeth all night, playing with his food, not listening to the conversation around him or taking part… When Cal was like this, it scared Ruth.

Cal sat in the Smoking Lounge with John Jacob Astor, Benjamin Guggenheim, Sir Cosmo Duff Gordon, the usual pack… but the only person on his mind was the wretched little whore that had turned her back on him. He didn't even have to guess who she with… but on a ship of such grandeur and size, he had no idea where she was.

"Another brandy, Caledon?" A loud voice bellowed through the grey smoke.

Snapped out of his trance by this question, he geld out his glass, allowing the amber liquid to spill inside. The more he drank, the more he could feel the rage inside him building up, and as he took this next drink, it was simply adding fuel to the fire.

Just then, a familiar face appeared in the crowd. He jumped up and raced over to him. "Lovejoy!"

"I can't find her anywhere, Sir."

"Has anyone else seen her?"

"None of the stewards have seen her either."

Cal nearly punched the marble fireplace next to him in fury, and as he spoke he had to force himself to speak in a hushed tone, or else he's be screaming. "This is absurd! It's a ship; there are only so many places she could be… Lovejoy, find her!"

Lovejoy nodded obediently and turned round, heading for the door, until he stopped and said, "Cal?"

"What is it?"

"Do you think she's with… you know?"

"Well of course she's with him! The problem here is I don't know where she is with him?"

"Perhaps she's…"

"Spit it out man!"

"His bedroom." He looked away, hoping to avoid Cal's mad gaze.

"She wouldn't…"

"She might."

Cal couldn't speak. His mind was whirling with questions, each one pushing past the other to be the first answered. The only question he cared about was this, "Where the fuck is his bedroom, Lovejoy?"

"I'll get right on it." And he was off to find out. Lovejoy was a retired cop, but he still knew how to use a firearm and pursue a man hunt… or in this case, a _woman_ hunt. Cal's father hired him to keep his little boy out of trouble, and to make sure he got back to the hotel with his wallet after his crawl through the less reputable parts of town. Cal didn't get to where he was today by being a Saint. No one gets everything they want and more by being, sometimes, you had to take risks.

Watching Mr Andrews pull his underwear back up around his waist, hiding his perfectly proportioned package, then sit down on the end of the bed and pull his socks back on, Rose felt that tonight had been worth the risk. She crawled across the bad, placed her head on his shoulder and started kissing and biting his neck.

"Won't Cal be wondering where you are?"

"Of course he will, but I don't want to think about him right now."

"He's going to be furious." Thomas laughed.

"When is he not?" she laughed with him and wrapped her arms around his waist.

Thomas held her arms, looking down and spotting her engagement ring. "That's one hell of a diamond there, Rose."

"It's nothing compared to the necklace he bought me." She should have sounded ecstatic about such gifts… however, she didn't. It wasn't that she was ungrateful. She just hated receiving gifts from. Cal hoped that when he bought that diamond, he'd be buying her respect.

"What are we going to do, Rose?" his voice was serious now, but still gentle. Thomas was the kind of man who could be stern or forceful without raising a hand or bursting a blood vessel in his eye.

"What do you mean?" She moved across the sheets to sit beside him, still in a state of complete undress.

"Us… this… we can't keep this going. The ship docks in a few days and after that I'll be heading back to Southampton on her return voyage. You'll be travelling to Philadelphia."

"So I'll… never see you again?"

"Not likely." He lowered his head, looking saddened by this thought. Rose couldn't let go of this man. He made her feel so special, and safe and wanted, and he was just as wealthy as Cal was, not that it mattered, but it helped.

"When the ship docks, I won't get off. I'll stay here with you."

"What?" he was caught off guard by this statement. "Rose, that's ridiculous! You can't do that!"

"And why not? Because it's frowned upon? So is adultery, and yet here we are, and God has not said a word." She grinned and stroked his ear. She loved his ears. They listened.

"And what of your mother and Cal? They'd know you were still on the ship… they'd know you were with me."

"Then let them come find us! I'm tired of living by their rules, I want to live my own life."

Thomas stood up, retrieving his trousers from the floor and putting them on. "I understand… but we would be landing ourselves into a whole lot of trouble. It's not like Romeo and Juliet, it's not all happy endings."

"They both died… there are no such things as happy endings. Only happy beginnings and the thrill of the ride in-between."

"But you'd have to leave your mother behind… you could never go back."

"That bitch is the reason I'm where I am. Being taken back to America in chains."

"And Cal would most likely send a warrant out for my arrest."

"For what?"

"Kidnap most likely."

"It's not kidnapping if I willingly ran away with you." She protested, trying to reassure him.

"I know… I know… If it's what you want, then-"

Suddenly, there was a sharp knock at the door, which made the lovers jump. Thomas looked at the door and then at Rose. "Quick, hide!"

Rose jumped off of the bed and towards the large wardrobe, which she fit into easily.

Thomas threw on his over coat, and buttoned it up, "Just a minute." He called out, struggling to button up in a hurry.

"It's Lovejoy, Mr Andrews." The shady voice on the other side said emotionlessly.

"_That bastard!" _Rose whispered.

Thomas shoved Roses' dress under the sheets and kicked her heels under the bed. Then, so not to waste any more time, he answered the door, looking flustered. "Hello, Mr Lovejoy!"

"Sorry to have disturbed you, Sir… I was wondering if you had seen Miss DeWitt BuKkater?"

He had to swallow the lump in his throat, "I'm afraid I haven't, no. Perhaps she has made a new friend on this ship."

"Indeed… perhaps she has…" Mr Lovejoy, as casually as he had appeared, strolled past Thomas and into the bedroom. Thomas was too nervous to stop him, and allowed him to inspect the room.

"Mr Hockley has been worried about her all night…"

"_Worried or jealous?" _Rose thought to herself, knowing that Cal had sent Lovejoy directly to this cabin.

"Well I can assure you Mr Lovejoy, she's not here. But if I see her I'll be sure to give her a good talking to and send her back to Caledon."

"Yes… I think a good talking to is exactly what she's in need of." Something within the old man made him turn towards the large armoire. Instantly, Thomas felt the lump in his throat reappear.

"Well, Mr Lovejoy, I'd love for you to stay, but I've got some very important paperwork to be getting on with."

As he spoke, Lovejoy slowly began to advance towards the wardrobe. Rose looked out of the slit between the two doors and saw Cal's henchman crossing the room, eyeing up the large wooden object. She nearly gasped, but put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from breathing.

"I shan't keep you long… It's a fine piece of furniture Mr Andrews."

"Why yes, it is."

"Very large."

"Indeed." Thomas wanted to grab the creepy man by the back of his shirt and throw him out into the hall. He prayed that he didn't open the door.

He was closer to the wardrobe now. "Mr Hockley bought Miss DeWitt BuKkater an armoire nearly identical to this one."

"Did he now?"

"Yes… he's a very generous man… Rose just doesn't see it." He stopped now, right outside the door where Rose stood. She stopped breathing, watching his withered face and empty eyes analyse the wardrobe, and her heart began to pound like a mallet inside her ribcage, trying to break out. He put a hand on the hand carved door panel and stroked it. "She never did use the thing. She just left it up in the attic to collect dust."

"Perhaps she's not a fan of mahogany." Thomas laughed nervously as he spoke.

"Mahogany… Marriage… We're unsure what she's a fan of these days."

"Perhaps Cal should sit down and ask her what she wants instead of guessing or trying to win her over with grand gestures." He hoped the blunt yet honest statement would distract Lovejoy from adoring this armoire. "He's a great fan of money… Rose is not."

"Well, Mr Andrews, I'm afraid that if you're born into wealth then you must live with wealth and get used to it." He put a hand on the handle of the wardrobe door. Rose, standing totally naked on the other end froze with fright. "I've told her many times to just come out and embrace the high class socialite society she was born into, not to hide and collect dust like an old armoire or hide amidst the dresses and gifts she receives." He began to turn the handle, which made Thomas feel sick. "Because as soon as Caledon starts to take each and every gift and dress out of her life, she won't be able to hide any longer, and she'll be exposed for what she really is."

And with that, he had swung the armoire door open. Thomas shut his eyes, as if awaiting a punch to the face… but nothing. He heard silence. He opened one eye and looked into the dark void that Lovejoy stared into, filled with coats, shirts, trousers and other such things… but no Rose.

He shut the door again. "I always was a fan of hand-made furniture… that's a fine specimen right there, Mr Andrews… take care of it… it's easy for something hand-made to fall apart if it's mistreated." He headed for the cabin door.

"I'll be sure to take great care of it, Mr Lovejoy, thank you." He walked him out the room, his heart rate steadying itself.

"And if you do see Rose, tell her we're looking for her… her mother's worried." And then he was gone, walking back to Cal's cabin to give him an update on the situation.

Thomas shut the door behind him and leaned against it, resting his forehead against the door. He listened to Lovejoy's footsteps quietly disappear down the hall… he was gone.

Rose emerged from the wardrobe, almost laughing, "That was a close shave."

"A _very_ close shave." Thomas turned around to see Rose finding her dress under the sheets, pulling it on over her head. "How did you hide?" he smiled now, knowing they were safe.

"You're overcoats are very long… I simply hid inside one of them."

Thomas chuckled and held out his arms. Rose came over and feel into his embrace.

"Well you're safe now, young Rose… I'll never let any harm come to you."

Just then, as they stood holding one another, something made Thomas pull away and look around the room. Rose was confused at first, but then a second later she too knew what he was doing. They both stood separated and each of them felt, without a doubt, the ground beneath their feet shaking ever so slightly, but becoming stronger with each passing millisecond. The chandelier above their heads began to jingle as the glass beads vibrated. Thomas whipped his head round to look at Rose, knowing she could feel it too. She looked back at him, seeing abject fear in his eyes. The ship was shaking… but then, it stopped, just as suddenly as it had started. Rose knew instantly that this wasn't normal. If it was, Thomas wouldn't look so pale.


	13. Chapter 13

**April 14****th**** 1912 – 11:40pm**

They stood looking at each other in confusion and shock for a minute or so.

"What was that?" Rose asked, her voice filled with worry.

Thomas was silent, and instantly ran over to the door. Pressing his ear against it, he heard the sound of voices and cabin doors opening on the other side. Others had felt it too. He turned on his heels and raced over to his desk, crouching over to pick up his papers and blueprints. Now, Rose became _very_ aware of the fact that something was wrong. Thomas' eyes were sharp and his mouth was tight, his perfect eyebrows now furrowed and his soothing voice vanished.

"Thomas?"

He picked up the papers, seeming to be in control, and then dropped them again. Rose began to help him, noticing how worried he seemed. She placed a hand on his. "Thomas! It's okay."

Just then, he did something rather odd. He got onto his hands and knees, circled the section of carpet like a dog marking its territory, and placed his ear to the floor. He listened, trying to focus in on something, and then he raised his head again, looking even more alarmed than before. "No it's not… it's not okay… The engines have stopped."

"What?" Rose asked, utterly confused as he picked up his papers and got to his feet.

"The engines, they've stopped!"

"Well what does that mean?"

"It means that the ship isn't moving. Why the hell have they stopped the ship?" He began to stride over to the door, rolling his papers up methodically.

"Wait, Thomas, where are you going?"

"I need to get up to the wheelhouse and find out what's happening."

"What shall I do?"

"Just wait here… I'll come back for you. Just go for a nap or play hide and seek in the wardrobe again." He winked, and tried to sound relaxed, but he couldn't hide his feelings as well as Rose could. A talent she needed when around Cal.

"Is everything okay?"

"I hope so… just wait here, and-" a knock at the door interrupted him. "If that's that bloody Lovejoy again I'll kill him!" His tone of voice took Rose by surprise as he marched to the door, yanking it open. On the other side stood a young steward.

"James? What's happened son?"

"I've been asked by Captain Smith to tell you that you MUST get to the wheelhouse immediately."

"Why? What has happened?"

"I'm not entirely sure, and don't quote me on this, but word up top is that we've struck a berg."

"…what?" Thomas' jaw dropped.

"The well deck is littered with ice, Sir, from the berg itself I assume… hurry, Sir… Captains orders." And James ran off, dodging in and out of the other curious passengers out in the hallway.

Thomas put a foot out the door, stopped himself and looked at Rose, who was standing in the room, wide eyed and young, like a rabbit caught in car headlights. "Rose, go find your mother."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Go get Ruth and wait in your cabin til I come find you."

"But-"

"Sweetheart, I'm not going to argue with you, I don't have time!" he shouted, and Rose shut up. He realized how harsh his voice sounded and mentally kicked himself. He quickly walked over to her, planted a wet kiss on her soft lips and held her by the shoulders strongly. "Rose, please… avoid Cal if you must, but get to your mother, now! Here's the key to my cabin. When you leave, lock the door behind you. I'll come get you both soon." She shoved the small silver key into her hand.

She nodded, taking in what he said. "Is it serious?"

"They wouldn't stop the ship if it wasn't." and before she could stop him, he was gone. He moved with purpose now, and ambition. He wasn't the romantic lover he was moments before. He was a worried father, trying to find out what was happening to his baby.

The Countess of Rothes, disturbed from her routine beauty sleep, opened her cabin door, lucky enough to see one of the ships officers. She stepped out in her long flowing night dress, her hair up in rollers, and stopped him as he passed. "Excuse me, why have the engines stopped? I felt a shudder."

"Not to worry Miss. We may have lost a propeller blade. That was the shudder you felt. May I bring you anything." He asked, changing the subject.

Just then, Mr Andrews barged past, carrying rolled up blueprints under his arm, his face hard. He didn't take in anyone around him, his own personal mission driving him forward. The Countess noticed his worried look, and she thanked the officer for his help… but clearly it was more than just a silly old propeller blade.

Ruth paced the floor of her daughters cabin, her hair a mess of ginger and her silk night robe creased. She ran her hand through her hair, sick with worry as she racked her brain for the possible whereabouts of her daughter.

Cal held out a glass of whisky for her, which she refused. "Suit yourself." He said, as he downed the glass.

"What could that have been?

"What?"

"The shaking, a moment ago?"

"I didn't feel anything." He slumped down into a chair and poured another glass.

"Oh no, you wouldn't after the amount you've drank. You've been stumbling around all night. The world shaking beneath your feet wouldn't be apparent to you." She screwed up her nose distastefully as he sipped the whisky heartily.

"I've had a tough night I'll have you know! You're daughter is FAR too difficult to please, Ruth!"

She snatched the glass out of his hand and sat it away from him. "And you're TOO easy to please!" She pointed to the already half empty bottle of whisky. He shrugged his shoulders. "My daughter is missing, and all you can do is drink yourself into a coma?"

"I'm not unconscious yet… _unfortunately_." He grumbled.

"Oh Cal, give me a minute and that won't be a problem." She moaned to him. He took the hint and folded his arms huffily, sinking further into the chair.

Just then, the cabin door slowly opened, and in walked Rose.

"Rose!" Ruth exclaimed, and ran over to her, wrapping her arms around her. "Where have you been all night? I was going out of my mind with worry." She shook her daughter and then held her close to her chest, cradling her.

"Mother…"

"We had Lovejoy, several of the ship's stewards, even _myself_, looking for you!"

"Well I'm here now, but-"

"Where were you?"

"Mother, we have to-"

"I thought you had fallen overboard, or been taken away by that raving lunatic from the church service earlier, I had no idea what to think, and-"

"Mother the ship is flooding!" she yelled.

Ruth went paler than usual, her eyes grew, and her mouth opened in shock. "Flooding? How?"

"Yes…" It was hard for her to say. "I overheard two of the ships officers talking about it in the hall. They were soaked up to their waists. The mail-room is nearly underwater they said."

"What happened? I felt the room shake, and the vase on the dresser fell down onto the floor."

"It was an iceberg... the ship collided with it."

"An iceberg?"

"Yes, now mother, we need to . . . what's that smell?" she sniffed the air distastefully.

Ruth rolled her eyes. "If it smells of a brewery, it's him." She turned her head to look at Cal, who was half asleep, slouching in his chair.

"Is he drunk?"

"Drunk would be an understatement." Turning to face her daughter again, Ruth eyed her up and down, tilting her head. "Rose, what are you wearing?"

She looked down at her dress, confused. "Mother, is this really necessary. It's a dress, now-"

"Are you wearing a corset underneath that?"

"Mother, we have to-"

"You're not, are you?" she gasped.

"Mother-"

"Rose, look at yourself! That dress leaves little to the imagination. Have you been wearing that all night? What would people passing you by think?"

"Mother, please! For one night, just stop worrying about what others think and listen to ME, your daughter! Your flesh and blood! Please!" She took Ruth by the hands, gripping them desperately.

Ruth looked at her daughters pleading eyes, knowing she was right. She hadn't felt Rose grip her so tight in years… the last time she felt this connection with Rose was a lifetime ago. "I'm sorry."

"Mother, we have to go up on deck and find Mr Andrews. He knows more about what has happened than we do, and we must go now!" Rose held her mother by the hand and guided her towards the door.

"Wait, What about Cal?"

The door already open now, she turned her head to look at her fiancé, completely useless now when Rose needed help the most. Even more reason to hate him. Her face snarled at him, and she told her mother coldly, "Let sleeping dogs lie."

Rose and Ruth left the cabin, shutting the door behind them and started making their way up to the boat deck. Ruth glanced at her young daughter, her posture strong and independent, her voice assertive and calm and her decisions wise and knowledgeable. She wasn't the stupid little girl that Ruth had been talking to only hours before. She was a woman… what had brought about this change? She wasn't sure, but she felt safe and assured now in her daughters presence.

The corridors were filled with curious and nosy 1st class passengers in their nightwear, silk pyjamas, slippers and elegant night gowns, all wondering what had happened. No one knew for sure, but Rose knew that sitting around doing nothing wasn't an option. How serious was the damage? Would the ship resume its course soon? Was the flooding only a minor problem? Only one man would know the answer to all of these questions. . .


	14. Chapter 14

**April 14th 1912 – 00:00am**

Thomas got up onto the bitterly cold boat deck, and instantly his ears were met with the most deafening sound he had ever heard. High above the ship, the funnels were loudly blasting out thick black smoke and steam, which billowed up into the starry night sky. This could only have meant that the boiler rooms were rapidly cooling down... but how? The ship stood still in the middle of this vast and endless ocean, like a firefly on a mill pond, glowing and twinkling on the calm, black surface of the water.

Looking around, he saw hardly anyone. Several passengers wearing their pyjamas were leaning over the forward railing. He walked over to join them, and as he glanced down onto the well deck, he saw two boys from 3rd class kicking a large chunk of white ice around as if it were a football. The laughed and shouted happily at the sight of the Arctic scene on the well deck. The berg must have brushed off against the side of the ship, grating of shards of ice and thing layers of the berg itself which looked almost like snow. The winter scene warmed these children's hearts, but it chilled Thomas to the bone.

"Mr Andrews!" A deep voice bellowed through the noise from above.

Turning around sharply, he saw Captain Smith heading towards him. "Captain, what the hell happened?"

"An iceberg, Mr Andrews. Fleet called it in before the boys on the bridge could notice it. Black ice Sir, the worst kind."

"I knew this would happen!"

"Well we knew of ice, Mr Andrews, but we didn't know we'd hit it. We couldn't have any idea."

"But I knew we'd get complacent. The unsinkable Titanic sailing towards ice, and we just keep charging forward at full speed!"

"We were trying to keep a steady schedule, Mr Andrews."

"No! We were trying to keep that blasted Mr Ismay happy!" Thomas yelled and walked off briskly into the Officers Quarters, followed closely by Captain Smith. "Where the hell is everyone, Captain?"

"They're busy inspecting the damage."

Thomas felt his stomach turn... he had been trying to avoid that word... "What is the damage?" he asked in a quiet voice, struggling to come to terms with that concept.

"It's not good... she's..." Captain Smith went pale, he too struggling to speak. "She's taking on a lot of water."

"How much water are we talking about?"

"14 feet above the keel in ten minutes."

Thomas was speechless... he couldn't believe it... the thought of his ship flooding beneath his feet... it was too much to comprehend... he still didn't believe it. "I need to go down Captain and inspect it for myself." He began to head for the door, his mind already made up.

"Mr Andrews, I can assure you, they've got it under control, we needn't worry about-"

"I needn't worry? Edward, the ship is taking on water! . . . Do you know how many of the watertight compartments have been opened?"

"I'm not sure... but down there, they'll know." He signalled his head to the floor, seeing in his mind the boiler rooms, the way he had seen them earlier that day. Boiling hot and bone dry apart from the moist sweat in the air... but in Thomas' mind, he couldn't help but imagine the rooms filled with furiously flooding ocean water.

Rose was almost up to the boat deck with Ruth, and was amazed by the lack of people out of their cabins. Everyone seemed to have gone back to bed, not worried by the soothing silence of the ship now that her engines had stopped their routine humming from far below. If the ship was flooding, why weren't they raising the alarm yet? Was it true? Was the Titanic really unsinkable? Perhaps they would start the engines again soon, after laughing at the mere wound caused by the collision... Rose could only hope.

"Is the flooding serious?" Ruth sounded worried.

"I'm not sure mother... I don't think so... well, not dangerously serious anyway."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Mother, look around..." They were in the Grand Staircase by now, which was now eerily empty, their voices echoing in the marvellously elegant room which was normally a hive of activity. "The place is deserted. Everyone is safe and sound in their beds. If it was a real emergency everyone would be getting into the lifeboats."

"Isn't a flooding ship an emergency in itself?"

"Well, yes... but no one is screaming abandon ship yet, so I think we're alright... and Mr Andrews would tell us if there was any threatening danger." thinking of Thomas eased her mind as she tried to ease her mothers.

They made it out onto deck, and Ruth instantly put her hands over her ears. "Oh my word! What on Earth is that hellish noise?"

Rose looked around, then looked up to the large funnel. Why was it making such a racket? She scanned the deck. It was more or less empty, apart from a few passengers strolling around on deck. It amazed Rose how calm everyone was. But the screaming funnels which lead down into the terrified bowels of the ship told another story, their ear piercing blasts of black smoke contrasting with the tranquil air on deck.

Mr Andrews was down into the very soul of the ship. The places that kept her moving, or in this case, had stopped her in her tracks. Now, he was beginning to wish that he hadn't designed the ship to have such complex and maze-like corridors. The warm, comfortable cabins and restaurants were above him, but now he was one of the rats, running along the metal floors, climbing down stairwells and melting in the intense heat that was emanating from the boilers that were in the floor below. A small room at the end of this current corridor, which served as a broom closet, was his next stop. A hatch in the floor with a long ladder leading downwards lead into the boiler rooms. It wasn't the main entrance into this area of the ship, but he had designed this room to have the hatch as an emergency exit or entrance hatch.

Suddenly, before he had even made it to the hatch, he heard loud footsteps and shouting ahead of him. Rounding the corner came a crowd of men, some shirtless, some wearing loose shirts, but all of them covered in suit and black dust. Another thing they had in common was the fact that they were dripping wet from head to toe.

"Lads, what the hell is going on?"

They stopped, panting, out of breath, shaking, their eyes wide with fear. "Mr Andrews, don't go down there!"

"What's happening boys, calm down and tell me." He grabbed one of the men by the shoulders. The strongly built man with rippling muscles and tanned skin, his bear chest expose, resembling a Greek God... but now, he was a quivering wreck. "It's hell Sir, it's hell! We didn't all get out, we couldn't!"

"It's a nightmare of unimaginable proportions, Sir! Edward got swept off his feet and I didn't see him again, we were lucky to get out of that alive!"

"It's bad Mr Andrews, I'm sorry... we shut all the dampers, but the watertight doors started to shut, and we had to move. If we didn't we'd have been locked down there to drown like rats!"

"How many are still down there?" Thomas was close to tears seeing these men crying like schoolboys.

"Sir, this isn't even a handful of the men that were down there... It's too late."

That was enough. Thomas barged past them and down the hall from where the men had come. They shouted after him, but he ignored their calls. He had to see it for himself. That was it. Enough had been said for him to know it was bad. The watertight doors had been shut, which was routine, but men were still down there amidst the flooding. There had already been deaths. Tears were streaming down Thomas' face now as we continued to run down the hall, following the wet footprints.

He reached the room, hesitantly put a hand on the door handle, and slowly opened the door. There was an extremely noisy electricity generator in this room, which made a high pitched screeching sound with a slight buzz behind it. This was a noise he was used to, but the noise he could hear from below his own two feet was an unfamiliar sound. He looked at the square hatch in the floor, surrounded by a puddle of water which had come from the men's drenched clothes as they escaped. He crouched down closer to the hatch, and all he could hear was, the only way he could describe it, waves crashing off of rocks at the beach. He grabbed the handle on the hatch and pulled it up, not wanting to wait any longer, and as it came up he gasped in horror.

Normally, looking down into this hatch he would see the metallic greys and shadowy pathways of the boiler room below, dominated by men shovelling away at lumps of coal, heaping them into the scorching flames that fuelled the ship's hunger for strength. But now, an icy cold wind blew upwards, along with a spray of water, as a thunderous ton of foaming white waves pounded the ladder. He stared at the scene open mouthed, the roaring of the water intensified now that the hatch was uncovered.

With each passing second, one by one the rungs of the ladder vanished beneath the quickly rising ocean water. At first he could see at least 7 rungs. Now, after only a minute, he saw about 3. Suddenly, there was a crashing sound from further into the boiler room, and the sound of shouting and screaming male voices. The water sprayed up into his face once more, and he slammed it shut.

He thought about what he had just seen, and then collapsed onto his knees, putting his head in his hands, sobbing. He heard them shouting, he heard them, knowing he could do nothing... and the worst part of it all, was the fact that this hatch lead into watertight compartment number 5, which meant that the first 5 compartments were flooded... this wasn't good news. The Titanic could stay afloat with the first four compartments breached, but not 5... not 5.

This horrible realization now in his mind, he suddenly thought of all the 3rd class passengers all still in their beds. He ran out into the hall and pushed his way through a set of double doors, preparing to knock on every single door until he had woke up this entire corridor... but it seemed his job had been done.

The place was packed with 3rd class passengers, all rushing out of their bedrooms, shouting out in confusion and fright.

"My room is filled with water!" One woman cried.

"It's up to my ankles in here!" Another man said as he emerged from his room with a baby in his arms.

"What's going on?" A little girl screamed hysterically as she dragged a bag of belongings out of her room, dripping wet.

Just then, as Mr Andrews stood watching the scene unfold, he saw the water begin creep down the hallway towards him, like the tide coming in on the beach. Each door on each side of the room swayed open gently as more water poured out into the corridor from inside. This caused more panic as the hallway now began to flood. The little girl with the bag was picked up by an older woman who shouted, "Cora, where's your father? We can't stay down here any longer!"

Before he knew it, the waterline had reach his shoes and was lapping against them. "Ladies and Gentleman, please, may I have your attention!"

His voice echoed over their racket and every face turned to watch him. They all seemed surprised to see the wealthy Mr Andrews on their part of the ship, but not only that, he was here as it flooded. He was a dedicated man indeed, thought some. And they would would not be wrong.

"Men, women and children, would you all please start making your way up to the boat deck! On the top of your wardrobe are several life belts which should be worn now!" As he spoke, the people obeyed him, venturing back into their rooms, the water past their ankles now.

"Thomas!" a voice cried out. A voice he knew.

"Tommy, my lad!"

Tommy and Fabrizio came barging through the crowds, already wearing their life belts. "Thomas, what the hell's going on? We both felt the room shake and-"

"Tommy, I don't have time, none of us do. We have to all get out of the lower sections of the ship and get upstairs immediately!"

Tommy could see the fear in his red eyes, which had obviously been crying. He put a hand on the older gentleman's shoulder and gripped it reassuringly. "Whatever happened... or happens... this isn't your fault."

Thomas shook his head grimly, "Oh but it is... it is." and he was off, disappearing behind the double doors, to join the officers on the boat deck, and report to the them the calculations and sums he did in his mind upon viewing the flooding for himself.

The water was past ankle depth now. It scared him how fast it rose. As he passed the room with the hatch, he saw the water creeping out from the slit under the door. There was no escaping it, the ship was sinking, and fast... but no one knew it yet apart from those that had seen it with their own eyes. It was like Thomas had once told Rose, _"To 1st class, if they can't see it, it's not happening, even if it's going on right under their noses." _

How was anyone going to believe that his "unsinkable" ship was in fact sinking... he didn't believe it himself.


	15. Chapter 15

**April 14th 00:25am**

Ruth had gone back inside to the Grand Staircase to sit in a comfortable arm chair and enjoy the warmth of the ships interiors. However Rose was busy on deck, waiting for a sign of her lover to appear. It was all beginning to happen on deck now. The lifeboats were being unchained and uncovered, prepared for lowering. The funnels were still blasting deafeningly high above the ship. The boat deck was a hive of activity now, with officers and even Captain Smith himself running back and forth, shouting commands and orders over the noise. Within the last 10 minutes, everyone had suddenly appeared from the woodwork, and passengers were beginning to assemble inside the restaurants, watching the scene on deck through the windows as if it were a show. She didn't want to go over to the wheelhouse and ask where Thomas was. She didn't want to interrupt their clearly important duties. She knew that, as the designer of the ship, he would have many things to worry about in a time like this. He had only been gone for 40 minutes or so... but even then, Rose couldn't help but wonder what was happening down there to make them so eager to prepare the lifeboats.

Just then, Ruth appeared at the door of the Grand Staircase. "Rose!" she shouted.

"Yes, Mother?"

"It's freezing out here, what are you doing?"

"I'm trying to find out why they're doing this." She surveyed the busy officers and seamen, their faces clearly trained to give off any signs of worry, only determination.

"It's alright, I've spoken to one of the nice men in here who said it's only a drill. They're going to get us into the lifeboats, lower them, and then bring them back up. Makes no sense to me at such a ridiculous time." She shivered, looking up at the star speckled sky.

That story made no sense to Rose. It was a ridiculous story. "Who told you that?"

"I'm not sure, he was wearing a suit and had a top hat, and-"

Rose cut her off. "Well then he isn't a ship officer, he doesn't know what he's talking about."

Ruth was confused, "What are you insinuating? That this isn't a drill?"

"Well Mother, think about it. Is it just a happy coincidence that there is a lifeboat drill the VERY same night the ship hits and iceberg and starts to flood? I don't think so."

Ruth understood her daughters words. "Well at least come inside. You'll catch your death out here in this cold."

"I'm alright, I'm waiting for someone."

"Who?"

"Tho- Mr Andrews... I'm waiting to ask him what's happening here."

"I thought you knew."

"No, I didn't say I knew, but I KNOW this isn't a drill!" as Rose said this, a passing officer, young in age, looked at her as if he was surprised to hear this.

Ruth stepped back inside and replied, "Well if that IS the case, I'm going to get dressed... I feel utterly exposed standing about in my nightgown."

"Why? Everyone else is in their pyjamas. Seems like the latest trend... you were always one for following the crowd, Mother."

"Well I'm not everyone else." She wrapped her arms around herself, trying to warm herself up, but also to keep her silk garment close to her chest.

"I think they're more curious about the lifeboats. They don't care what you're wearing... believe it or not, Ruth DeWitt BuKkater isn't the centre of attention right now." Rose stared into her eyes firmly, standing her ground.

"Well, some of us might be okay with running around in next to nothing..." She glared at Roses dress, "But I most certainly am not!" and she slammed the door.

Rose looked down at her dress, and not even meaning to, she shouted, "What is so wrong with this dress?"

Down in Rose's cabin, Cal was beginning to stir. He rolled his head to the side, opened an eye and spotted the bottle of whisky. His stomach turned. He grunted and slowly began to push himself up, feeling the room spinning. "I'm never letting Benjamin pour my drinks again." He moaned to himself, rubbing his temple.

Just then, the door opened, and Ruth entered. She noticed Cal, and said plainly, "Nice of you to join us."

"I could say the same for you. Where have you been? What if I had drowned in my own vomit?"

"I wouldn't be surprised." she replied, heading into the wardrobe.

"Is there any word of Rose yet?" he stood up, trying to gain his balance, the taste in his mouth vile and dry.

"Oh yes. She came back whilst you were sleeping." Ruth answered, skimming through the hangers for something thick and warm to wear. A nice fur hat caught her eye.

"What did you say?"

"She's back... she had been... well, I'm not too sure where... but the thing I've learned about Rose is that she knows her own mind. She needs her space. The soul is like a child, and she has a lot of soul."

"Meaning what, exactly?" Cal scoffed, pouring himself a glass of water.

"Well, if you chase a child and try to keep them in your arms, they'll keep running away from you... but if you sit and wait, they'll come back to you when they're ready."

"Well as sweet as that is..." he lied, "I've been left at dinner looking like a fool because my young and radiant fiancée is off doing God only knows what! She acts like one, and yet Rose is NOT a child."

Ruth appeared from the wardrobe holding a set of clothes. "You're right... she's not a child... she's MY child." and with that she was heading for the door again.

"Wait! Where are you going?"

"To get my daughter." Ruth took a long pink overcoat from a hook on the back of the door, adorned with black stitching representing flowers and swirling lines. "She must be freezing up there."

"Where? Where is she?" The way he asked wasn't the voice of a worried or doting husband to be. It was the tone of a controlling bastard who wanted to go find her and give her a good shaking.

Ruth picked up on his tone and opened the door, about to leave. "She's up on deck, waiting for Mr Andrews."

Cal fell silent. "She's what?"

"She's on deck, where they're starting to uncover those ghastly lifeboats... Not that you'd know..."

"Why are they-"

Before he could ask, she was gone, slamming the door on the way out. Cal didn't know why they were preparing the lifeboats, but he knew what he needed to know most. He knew where Rose was, and he knew she was waiting on _him_. Cal didn't need to guess any longer. He knew that she was with him tonight. Lovejoy clearly wasn't as good at his job as he made out. Sniffing out a girl in hiding may be a hard task, but sniffing out a whore isn't difficult at all. He couldn't count on Lovejoy to help him, but he could think of one other person who would be happy to help him get Thomas out of the picture. . .

Rose sat in a deck chair and watched as one by one, all the lifeboats before her were swung out over the side of the ship, suspended in mid air, the long drop to the ocean below dauntingly apparent. This was probably the reason why so many people had refused to get into the boats. Only some people had ventured outside now, curious as to what was going on. It seemed that fur hats were out of fashion and life belts were all the range, as everyone seemed to either be carrying one or wearing them.

One of the officers in charge of one particular lifeboat came up to Rose as she gazed out into the darkness and said politely, "Would you care to come with me into the boat Miss? Women and children only at the moment."

"I'm waiting on Mr Andrews I'm afraid."

"Why, he's in the Officers' quarters Miss. Has been a good twenty minutes now. Face on him like a smacked arse, if you'll excuse my wording."

Rose jumped up immediately and pushed past him, racing across the open deck, the bitter cold air running through her hair like icy cold finger tips. How had she missed him? Did he enter on the opposite side of the boat deck? It didn't matter either way, for she knew where he was now.

Thomas stormed out of the Officers Quarters, and looked left and right, taking in the sight of his ships lifeboats being swung over the threatening edge of the stricken luxury liner. He could see the headlines now, and it made his blood run cold. But now that he looked around, he saw plenty of officers performing their duties, but there was a great lack of passengers on deck.

This wasn't acceptable. He knew that things were deadly serious. If only he could take each and every passenger down to E-Deck and show them the flooding, perhaps then they would be more than willing to enter a lifeboat. But there wasn't time for that... time was precious now.

He stopped a passing officer and shouted over the roar of the funnels, "Mr Wilde? Where are the passengers?"

"They've all gone back inside." He signalled his head to the windows behind Thomas, lined with faces, all confused and intrigued, but none of them worried. "It's too damn cold and noisy for them!" and then walked off and blew his whistle, gaining the attention of a nearby officer who was needed for preparing the first boat to lower.

Thomas looked at the people inside the ship. "The fools." he whispered to himself. He dug into his overcoat pocket and brought out a small pocket watch. He opened it and saw the time. It was coming up for twenty minutes to one in the morning.

"Thomas!" a voice yelled through the racket.

"Rose?" he turned his head sharply and saw the blur of ginger racing through the crowds, and before he knew it he had almost been knocked off his feet by her warm embrace.

"I've been waiting for you! Thomas what's happening?"

Thomas got her by the shoulders and pushed her off of him to look her in the eyes. He lowered his voice and said simply, "The ship will sink."

"For certain?" she gasped.

"Yes... in an hour or so... all of this will be at the bottom of the Atlantic." He looked around the deck, up at the funnels, inspecting every elegant window and door... he couldn't imagine this vanishing into the dark waters. "But please, tell only who you must, I don't want to be responsible for a panic... where's your mother?"

Rose was speechless for a moment before replying, "She went back to our cabin to get dressed... an hour?"

"Rose, get your mother, and get into a boat quickly, don't wait! . . . I haven't told you about the lifeboats, have I?"

Rose shook her head, which made Thomas deflate. He felt ashamed to be saying this, but now, under the given circumstances, it had to be said. "The davits were designed to take an extra row of lifeboats inside these ones, but it was thought, by some, that the deck would look too cluttered, so I was over ruled." He took in a breath, trying to clam himself, his throat tightening.

"Thomas, what are you saying?" She took his hand, seeing his eyes beginning to tear up.

"Rose... there are 2200 souls on board and 20 lifeboats that can hold, at maximum, 70 people..."

He looked at Rose's face, knowing that she was doing the sums in her head as he spoke. "That's only 1400 people that can get off of the ship safely... what about the other 800?"

Thomas was quiet and stared into her eyes, a tear rolling down his cheek. Silence was the answer.

"Oh God..."

"Please don't look at me like that... I already know it's my fault."

"No! No, it;s not your fault! Don't you dare think that!"

Thomas shrugged his shoulders, "Why not? Everyone else is."

"But, Thomas-" He placed a finger onto her lips. He knew she'd put up a fight, but he had to tell her now before it was too late.

"I mean it Rose, you HAVE to get into a lifeboat, soon rather than later."

"What about you? They said it's women and children only..." She stared up at him with those big blue eyes that he had grown to love so well.

"Forget about me... go find your mother, she's more important right now."

Rose gripped his hand tighter, not daring to let go. "I won't leave you."

"Rose, I'm not giving you a choice... I'll be back here in half an hour, and if you're not gone, I'll not be a happy bunny." He winked, and a tear escaped his sad brown eyes. He squeezed her hand, not wanting to let go, but knowing he had to, and then he sped off past her.

Rose swung round, attempting to follow him, but an officer got in her way. She pushed him aside like a door and tried to chase after Thomas, but a man carrying an oar got in her way. She looked through the crowd, trying to keep track of her lover, but in the dense crowds of now appearing passengers, he vanished. "Thomas!" she shouted out, "Thomas!" but he was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

**April 15****th**** 00:50am**

Cal charged furiously over to the elevator around the back of the Grand Staircase, the young man inside persisting that the lift was no longer operating due to, as he put it, "Current problems within the ship." That soon changed when Cal brought out a hefty bundle of money and slid it into the young man's hand. Instantly, the cage was shut behind him and the lift began to descend.

"Why do you want to come down this way anyway, Sir… if you don't mind me asking?"

"Well as it happens, i DO mind." He continued to stare out of the lift as each floor passed by them.

The boy was shocked by his blunt and utter rudeness… but didn't feel the need to complain. Not with the green bulge in his pocket. "I'm not entirely sure why I was told to stop operating the lift, something about the ship running into trouble. Everyone's talking different stories."

Cal was silent, until he said, "Oh, I'm sorry, were you talking? I lost interest."

Just then, the lift passed the last floor of D-Deck, and as E-Deck appeared beneath them, it was apparent why the lift had been closed. The entire hallway was filled with water. It looked as if they were being lowered into a swimming pool. Cal grumbled under his breath and jumped up onto a chair that sat in the lift. Within seconds, the cage had hit the floor and the water outside came rushing in furiously, like white foamy fists, pounding the elevator with all its force.

The boy shouted and jumped with horror as the swirling iciness surrounded him and rose above his knees. "I'm going back up!" He put a hand on the lever to raise the elevator back up to A-Deck, but Cal pulled him off of the lever and into the corner of the lift.

"No you're not you useless little rat!" Before he knew it, he was pulling the wrought iron gate aside and stepping out of the lift and into the freezing depths of the water in the hallway. "God damn Lord Hell!" he exclaimed as his thighs felt the painful chill of the flooding. "Don't you dare go anywhere! I'll be back!" He shouted over his shoulder to the boy in the lift.

But just then, he heard the gate shut, and the gears inside the elevator machinery warming up again. He turned quickly to see the cage lifting up, the masses of water pouring out of it as it lifted, and the boy giving Cal the middle finger through the bars. And then, it was gone, leaving Cal abandoned in the bowels of the sinking vessel. He punched the water with his fist, soaking his smart tuxedo entirely, and then continued wading on through the waves, pushing past floating suitcases and chairs as he passed them. There was no one to bribe now, and no money to bribe with. Just him, the endless maze of flooding 3rd class corridors, and the gutter rat that was being held prisoner down here… somewhere.

Ruth walked out onto deck, happy to hear that the funnels were no longer making that ear piercing roar. Instead, they were sending a steady stream of gentle grey steam into the air. More or less ever lifeboat was swung out over to edge of the deck, some filled with passengers, and some still sitting empty, like decorative wooden boats painted a sparkling white. She looked around for Rose, and saw her eventually, sitting on a deck chair. She hurried over to her, insulted by the officers barging right past her, as if they should say "excuse me" in the middle of such pandemonium.

"Rose, put this on, you look like death warmed up." She placed the long pink coat over her shoulders.

"Oh mother, stop fussing." Coats seemed rather trivial now since Thomas had told her the ship's fate.

"I'm your mother. It's my job." She replied, fixing a stray strand of Rose's hair. Rose smiled slightly and allowed the coat to be worn. It was rather cold now that Rose thought about it… but then that must have meant the water was even colder… and now her face was sombre again.

"Mother… you have to get onto a lifeboat."

"I beg your pardon?" She looked at her daughter's serious facial expression, and then over to one of the lifeboats that was rocking back and forth over the ship's edge as people warily stepped inside. "I'd rather not."

"Mother, I'm not asking you, I'm telling you."

"But why? Everything will be fine. This ship is her own lifeboat they say. They'll be out into the sea and called back to board for breakfast." She laughed lightly and sat down next to Rose in a deck chair.

"Mother, I wouldn't tell you to get on one of them if it wasn't important."

"What makes you think it is?"

Rose turned to face Ruth now, her face paler than normal and her eyes full of unwanted knowledge, but vital nevertheless. "I found Mr Andrews."

"And?"

She tried to swallow the lump in her throat as she thought of how devastated he seemed to share this news. He told Rose to tell only who she must, and Ruth had to know. "The ship is sinking… not just flooding slightly, not just a drill, not just a precaution… she IS sinking."

Ruth's jaw dropped. "What?"

"Now you know, and I don't want you on this ship any longer. It's not safe. Mr Andrews said she had an hour or so left on the surface… after that… I don't even want to think about it." Rose looked to the floor, her voice breaking up.

Just then, a familiar voice boomed through the crowd. "Hey sonny! What's got ya? You've got us all dressed up here and now we're cooling our heels?" Molly Brown asked a steward from the door of the Grand Staircase. The steward apologised and ran off. She rolled her eyes and mumbled to herself, "I don't think anybody knows what the hell's going on around here." Then she spotted Ruth and Rose. "Hello Ladies!"

"Hello Molly." Rose said glumly, thinking about the 800 people.

"What's the matter? Who died?" She asked, jokingly, sensing the depressed atmosphere that was hovering over Rose.

Rose bit her bottom lip and tried not to cry. "Molly, will you convince my mother to get onto a lifeboat with you. She always was afraid of heights."

"Well I'll be damned! The Great Ruth is actually afraid of something! C'mon, I'll hold your hand." Molly teased.

Ruth stood up and looked at Rose, signalling for her to follow. Rose stood up and walked with them as they approached the lifeboat… she knew now what she had to do.

"Anymore women and children?" The officer shouted as he ushered passengers onto the boat.

"Hope you've got enough room in there for my feather hat and her ego?" Molly said through the crowd jokingly, pointing to Ruth, her face dismal.

"I most certainly do." The officer replied, holding out a hand for Mrs Brown, who stepped onto the boat easily.

Ruth was next, but before she would allow the officer to help on on board, she asked, "Will the lifeboats be seated according to class?" Looking over her shoulder to Rose, she whispered, "I hope they're not too crowded."

Rose couldn't believe it. Even NOW, of all times, she was the same Ruth she had always been. Tonight she had showed a compassionate side towards her daughter, but that thirst for wealth and respect was always going to be in her blood. "Oh Mother, SHUT UP! Don't you understand?" She grabbed her mother by the shoulders and pulled her in almost threateningly. "The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats! Not enough by half!" she paused, realizing how loud she was, and looked around at all the faces still on deck before whispering. "Half the people on this ship are going to die… you don't want to be one of them… do you?"

Ruth stared at her daughter wide eyed, unable to fathom what she had just heard. The officer wasted no more time and had to physically lift Ruth from the ship and onto the lifeboat, handling her like a box of delicate china, to be handled with care. "C'mon Ruth. First class seats are right up here!" Molly said, patting a bench next to her.

Ruth accepted the seat and took it, feeling the slight sway of the lifeboat as everyone aboard moved. She looked up at the sky. She had never seen so many stars. Living in the city with all the lights meant that stargazing was difficult. You had to learn to keep your head down and move along with the crowd. Then, mustering up enough courage, she glanced over the side of the lifeboat, and gasped in horror when she saw the endless drop down to the dark, uninviting sea below. She closed her eyes and waited for Rose to board so that they could hold hands during the descent.

"Take them down!" The officer in charge of the boat demanded. Suddenly, the boat jolted slightly, and the davit falls that were attached to the lifeboat began to lower, the boat disappearing down the side of the ship. But where was Rose? Ruth looked from side to side. Rose wasn't on board. She jumped up, Molly trying to catch her, and flew over to the edge of the ship, which was just within reach now. She gripped onto it with her fingertips and attempted to look up onto the deck to find her daughter, but the boat was too low now, and her fingers lost their grip. She fell back down into a seat, and screamed her daughter's name into the air, looking up at the hull of the Titanic looming over her as she was lowered away from it. Her baby was still on that sinking ship that was apparently going to claim the lives of half of those on board. Ruth couldn't control her sobs.

Rose had run off to sit inside the Grand Staircase, thinking about where to find Thomas and what to do in order to stay with him. She didn't want to leave him on board his own ship when he felt the way he did. She worried about what he might do… or what the ship might do to him. But in that moment, when she could still hear her mother calling her name desperately, she blessed herself and whispered softly, "Goodbye mother."

She didn't know if she would make it off of the ship in time… that could have been the last time that Rose ever saw her mother, and she had done nothing but shout at her. For good reason, but still, Rose felt awful and she couldn't help but let a tear roll down her cheek. She was a bitch at the best of times, but after all that's said and done, she was her mother… nothing could change that.


	17. Chapter 17

**April 15th 1912 01:05am**

Cal had been searching the steerage corridors for 15 minutes or so, and he was hopelessly lost. Everywhere looked the same, and when he assumed there was a stairwell leading up to the next deck, he was met with a locked metal gate. The last gate he was faced with fell victim to a violent five minutes of screaming and kicking the thing, in a desperate attempt to get out... but to no prevail.

He was on the move again, but stopped for a moment to inspect something. He stood in the middle of this hallway and did nothing. He simply stood and stared at the doorway ahead of him. Upon doing this, he realized that the hallway was tilting to the side. The entire ship was tilted. This, along with the fact that the hallways were waist deep with water, terrified Cal.

He rushed forward through the door, hoping to find "Scotland Road," where he knew Jack was being kept. Lovejoy, being the ex-cop that he was, had been asked to babysit the insane young boy for a few hours earlier that day, and mentioned to Cal that he was obsessed with Rose, talking about how they'd run off together and make lots of babies, and watch them grow, and die at an old age, warm in their beds. He wasn't right in the head, that was obvious, and seeing Thomas and Rose together made things worse in his mind. Both his parents died in a house fire that he considered his fault, causing him to run away when he was only 13 and live a life "on the run" as he put it... but no one was after him. He was lost and confused and lonely. Only now was it starting to surface from the deep ocean of emotions from within him. However, Cal thought that he could use Jack's obsession to his advantage... or so he hoped. It was worth a shot.

Finally, Cal found "Scotland Road," the longest passageway on the ship, reaching from the bow to the stern of the vessel, with doors on either side and corridors leading off from it. The more he walked, the shallower the water became. From this, Cal knew now that the ship was going down by the head. Because the water was flooding sloped hallways, it meant that the water seemed to go from deep to shallow, when really, you were or more or less walking up a carpeted hill.

"Jack?" he called out. His voice echoing off of the crisp white walls. "Jack!" A deafening silence answered his call.

He swore under his breath, hating the fact that there was no one down here to help him. Now he was alone, in the lowest levels of this sinking ship, relying on the help of a mad man to get him what he wanted. Just then, there were footsteps that sounded as if they were ahead of him. He heard them and stopped. Absorbing the sound. He wasn't alone after all. He began to walk briskly, attempting to reach the source of the sound.

"Hello? Is there somebody down here?" He called out. Silence again. "Answer me God damn it!"

The footsteps started up again, and seemed to be jogging down the hallway around the corner of this tilted corridor. A short, plump man appeared, fat, but muscular looking, with a grey moustache resembling a dog's. "What the fuck are you doing down here?" He asked in a strong London accent.

"I'm... Well, I..." Cal didn't know what to say. "Captain Smith sent me here."

"Why would Captain Smith send YOU here?" the officer asked doubtfully, folding his arms.

"Well, he was wondering if the officers guarding the lunatic down here would be able to come and help him prepare the lifeboats." Cal said as convincingly as he could.

"And why did he send you?"

Cal asked himself this. He wouldn't even believe his own story, but he had to think on his feet. "It's chaos up there, every man is busy doing their job and getting the lifeboats ready for lowering. The only man with nothing to do was the man in the tuxedo. All the boys in blue have too much on their hands."

The officer screwed up his nose, "Drinking on the job?" he asked.

"Well, I've got to do something to keep warm."

"Is it cold out?"

"Cold _outside_? Have you seen inside?" Cal stood aside and held out an arm, signalling to the end of the hallway, the end of "Scotland Road," where a swirling and shimmering pool of water was slowly creeping along the floor towards them. Beyond this hallway, in the further regions of the tilting steerage levels, the flooding was worse, and the entirely flooded boiler rooms and watertight compartments were out of room to flood, so the water surged upwards, invading the level above.

When the officer saw the water, his face turned white and his eyes flew open. "Fuck me!"

"No thank you... but, I do recommend you go up onto deck. Personally I'd rather be up there than down here."

He nodded grimly, his gaze transfixed on the flooding, watching it crawl towards them like a demon of the Sea, stealthily advancing onto them, ready to kill if given the chance. "Perhaps you're right... and Captain Smith sent you here?"

Cal put a hand over his heart, a heart that had grown colder than the necklace he gave to Rose. "Scouts honour." He replied politely.

The officer looked at him, Cal not breaking eye contact, keeping a charming smile as always. "Right... well, c'mon then." He began to walk off in the opposite direction of the flooding. "Robert! . . . ROBERT!"

"What?" a voice replied from a room around the corner from where this officer had come.

"We're going, now!"

"Who's we?"

"Me, you and Mr Tux here." He looked Cal up and down.

"Who?"

"Just hurry the fuck up, will you?"

The man appeared, a tall, skinny man with a squint eye and a tight looking uniform that looked second hand. "But, what about him?"

"Who?"

"Jack." He whispered, pointing through the wall.

"Who?"

"Jack." he replied slightly louder, seeming timid, especially in comparison to his grumpy and forceful partner.

"Who the hell is Jack!"

"The lad that we've been baby-sitting since half 8 tonight!"

"You're on a first name basis with him, are you?" The small fat man winked and nudged him teasingly.

The lanky boy went red. "Well I had to learn at least one thing about him in all the time we've been keeping an eye on him. He's in handcuffs, don't see why he needs to be watched anyway."

"Because he's trouble, that's why!"

"He may be trouble, but he's not a blooming magician! How's he gonna escape exactly?"

Cal watched the two men argue back and forth, not quite sure what to say. He looked over his shoulder and was stunned to see how much the water had deepened in only minutes. And then he spoke, "I don't mean to interrupt, but-"

"He's a mad man, and all magicians are mad!" The officer cut Cal off and attempted to walk off again.

"But not all mad men have wands."

" . . . What?"

"I dunno, it sounded more logical in my mind... but even still, he's not Houdini!"

"I know he's not but-"

Cal stepped in between the two men and stated, "Didn't Houdini drown?"

All three men paused... and then the two officers sighed and said the likes of, "Oh yeah, so he did!" and "I didn't know he swam."

"But it was his fault he drowned. He was an escape artist. He got himself locked up in a tank and he drowned, and that's exactly what Jack's done! He interrupted a church service, he's been stalking that ginger girl with the tits," Cal almost choked at this statement. "and he's been shouting bloody murder to Thomas Andrews through the ceiling, hoping he'll hear it on A-Deck. Daft bastard! No, he deserves everything he gets!" The fat officer looked at the water again, and that fearful expression appeared once more.

"So what are you saying?" The tall officer asked his small companion, in a serious tone.

"I'm saying that if he drowns, it's his fault... but we have a choice, and we're going up on deck, now!"

The two men sped off, the lanky boy more weary about leaving, feeling guilt inside him for leaving a living person down here to drown. Cal watched them both vanish into the distance of this never ending hallway, bickering as they went, discussing if Houdini was spelt "Hou" or "Hoo."

They were gone at last, and Cal grabbed his chance. He ran over to the room where he knew Jack was being held captive. The door was open slightly, and a he could see the back of the boy, facing the wall. He was debating whether to open the door or not, what to do, or what to say.

"Come on in Cal. Door's open." Jack invited suddenly.

Cal jumped, not expecting him to talk, and not knowing that the boy knew he was there. He slowly pushed the door open and the room revealed Jack, sitting on a chair, his wrists attached the a large white pipe with shining silver handcuffs. "This looks cosy."

"I've had worse... being handcuffed isn't a first for me." He shrugged his shoulders, still facing the wall whilst sitting in the chair.

"Do you make a habit of being arrested." Cal cautiously walked over to him, looking around the room. It seemed like an office of some sort, with a map of the world on the wall, a desk covered with papers and a shelf of books.

Jack laughed slightly and answered, "Nah... not being arrested... I'm good at running away, but on a ship there's not many places to run to. I mean wearing handcuffs during... OTHER, scenarios... that's the good thing about French girls, they're always willing to take their clothes off and do as they're told."

Cal was shocked by his crude forwardness, but not insulted. In fact, he found it almost humorous. "You've been to France?"

"I sure have."

"How did you manage that? A man of your means."

"I travelled by helium balloon." He replied bluntly.

Cal laughed out loud. "Did you now? . . . You're a good liar."

"Almost as good as you."

Cal didn't understand what he meant by this. "Meaning? . . ."

"_Captain Smith sent me here blah blah blah!_" Jack mimicked Cal's stuck up accent, quoting what he had said out in the hallway.

"You heard that?"

"I heard all of it." Jack lowered his head slightly.

Cal sensed a weakness here, and took a wild guess on what had hit him the hardest whilst overhearing the conversation. "So I take it you heard that they've left you here?"

"Indeed I did, Cal."

"And that you'll most likely drown?"

"Like a rat... in the gutter where I belong." Jack began to tap his finger on the metal pipe, the noise echoing through the structure and vibrating along the metal piping that continued to travel into the wall. "I like doing that."

"Why?" he grimaced at the sound of the repetitive noise.

"Because it sounds like the little feet of rats running around... makes me feel less alone down here if you know what I mean."

Cal didn't know what he meant. "Yes, I know what you mean. . . anyway, I suppose you want out?"

"Well I don't want to die you moron!"

Cal almost slapped the back of his head, but wrung his hands, restraining himself. "There's only one way you're going to get out of here alive, Jack."

He nodded and said, "Yeah, if the rats finally hear my call." He began to tap on the pipe louder, the noise amplifying and echoing through flooding corridors far from this one room.

"WOULD YOU STOP THAT?" Cal shouted irritably.

Jack did as he was told. "Well you're grouchy... you'd think that you had been locked up like an animal for hours... do you know how sore this is?"

"I can help you Jack."

The teen turned his head slightly, interested by this statement. "You can?"

Cal sensed that he was winning and walked in closer as if approaching a wild horse. "Yes... if you will help me."

Jack was silent for a moment, thinking, and then turned his upper body round to see Cal. The man in the tuxedo gasped when he saw the boys face. His right eye was purple and puffy, his nose was bloody, his lip was swollen and burst and his perfectly handsome face was bruised and cut. The one blue eye that was untouched stared Cal up and down curiously. He licked his lips and spat blood out onto the floor. "Sure... count me in."

Cal nodded, unable to look away from his ruined face. "They beat you up?"

Jack rolled his eye and laughed a little, "Aaah, don't worry about me. I'm a survivor. This is nothing, you should spend a night with those French girls. They can REALLY pack a punch!"

"I'll keep that in mind... so you'll help me?"

"What's in it for me?"

"Well, apart from sure and certain freedom from this flooding hell hole... I'll give you the one thing I know you want most." He smiled smugly.

"And that would be?" Jack was greatly interested now.

Cal crouched down, eye level with Jack, and stared at him face to face, before answering, "Rose."


	18. Chapter 18

**April 15th 01:15**

The ship has settled down head first into the water, gradually lowering more and more by the bow with each passing minute. The waterline is up to her golden nameplate, the large shining letters reading 'T I T A N I C' almost submerged beneath the black surface of the ocean. Officer Murdoch has lowered his 4th lifeboat, boat number one, filled with a measly 23 people. It wasn't the first boat to be filled to less than half of it's capacity, and it didn't go unnoticed. Thomas Andrews had been standing in the background, silently watching the departing of the lifeboats from his dying masterpiece, and he was disgusted with what he saw. He couldn't keep his mouth shut any longer. He stormed across the inclining boat deck, that was now obviously sloping head first due to the intense flooding in her bowels, causing a sudden fear to rise within the crowds on deck, reality kicking in at last. He spotted Second Officer Charles Herbert Lightoller, about to give the order to lower away his current boat, filled with a shocking amount of people.

"Mr Lightoller, why are these boats being launched half full?" He asked from behind him, causing him to turn in surprise, not aware he was being watched.

Not wishing to take part in a full on interrogation, he attempted to dismiss him, "Not now Mr Andrews."

He was having none of it. This had to be said. It was bad enough that people downstairs had died. He was not about to have people on deck that had a chance of surviving die because his Officers weren't doing their jobs correctly. He pointed out into the water over the side of the ship at a dull grey abject, rowing away from the shining ship in the middle of the dark night. "Look! 20 or so in a boat built for 65? and I saw one boat with only 12, 12!"

Lightoller saw the rage in his eyes, the bulging vein in his forehead and the gritting of his teeth. He didn't want to reply with the words he was about to, for it sounded ridiculous, but it was true. "We weren't sure of the weight Mr Andrews, these boats may buckle."

"Rubbish!" Thomas shot him down instantly. "These boats were tested in Belfast with the weight of 70 men! Now fill these boats Mr Lightoller for God's sake man!" He shouted in a way that Lightoller, or any of the passengers standing around them, had ever heard. And then he raced off to the next set of davits to tell of f the next Officer.

Lightoller had never seen him so angry... or scared... he was unsure what Mr Andrews was feeling, but the feeling of the ground sloping beneath his feet was enough to make him reconsider lowering this boat half full, prompting him to say, "Please, I need more women and children, please!"

Down in E-Deck, Cal and Jack were enjoying one another's company, which surprised Cal immensely. He hated the boy, but he understood why he had an attraction to Rose. Who didn't? After all, she had been on the ship for only 4 days and already had 3 men chasing after her heart... one man had won it, one man owned it lawfully, and the other was locked up for wanting it. Cal wanted to make sure that he was the only one left in the race, and tripping over the winner would take another man's help. "So how exactly are we going to get you out of here?" He asked Jack, leaning against the wall casually, inspecting the pipe and the cuffs.

"We? I think that's your job. I'm kinda tied up at the moment." He shook his hands, the chain rattling off the pipe.

Just then, Cal looked out the window, and instead of seeing a clear night sky, he saw the waterline of the ocean, halfway over the porthole. In the past five minutes the water had risen a quarter of the way over the window, which scared Cal. It meant that the ship was going down fast. "We don't have much time... we need to think of-"

"I've got it!" Jack exclaimed.

"What?"

"An axe! Get an axe!"

Cal crossed his arms and scoffed. "Oh yes, just give me a moment whilst I check inside my tool shed for one."

"I'm not THAT insane... out in the hallway, there's fire hoses and fireman's axe's in little glass boxes on the wall."

"What for?"

"Oh, I dunno, fires?" Jack replied sarcastically. "Smash the box with the nozzle of the hose, get the axe, and come back here."

His wise guy attitude infuriated Cal. Working together was going to be hard. "And then what?"

Jack turned to face Cal, surprised by this question. "What do you think? . . . TO CUT ME FREE YOU SON OF A BITCH!"

"An axe won't work you imbecile!"

"It's worth a shot."

Cal knew he was right. He took what the teenager had said and took it with him as he raced out into the hallway. Instantly, as he stepped foot outside the door, he rushed through ankle deep water. The entire hallway was flooded now, and it had only been five or ten minutes since he was out here with the officers. He looked from side to side, trying to spot an axe anywhere. He saw none. He decided to try heading up the hallway, rather than heading down and into the rising water. That would be suicidal.

When he reached the top of the hallway, he had to choose whether to go right or left. He decided to go left, down the corridor which still had it's power on, the lights making the journey seem warmer. But a minute or so into the corridor, the lights suddenly began to flicker, fading on and off. He stopped and looked to his side, staring at the wall lamp hatefully, cursing it with his mind, praying that it wouldn't go out. And then, darkness. Complete and utter shadow shrouded the ship. Cal stood silently on the spot, not daring to move. He listened to his heart pounding inside his chest, the moans and groans of the metal around him echoed eerily as the ship settled further down into the ocean. It was as if the ship was in pain, and was crying out in agony the more she sank. After a minute of being bathed in darkness, the lights buzzed faintly and slowly faded back on. Cal let out a sigh of relief and headed on his way.

Rose had been sitting in the Grand Staircase for... she didn't know how long... simply staring at the floor tiles. Every first class passenger was out of their bed now, assembled on deck, kissing their husbands, fathers and brothers goodbye as the women were put into the lifeboats. On several occasions, a ship officer had walked over to Rose and asked her to get onto a lifeboat, and each time she shook her head glumly, refusing to even look into his eyes. From the way he spoke, he sounded concerned, and looking into those eyes of concern would only tempt her to get into a boat, for it would make her think of Thomas. He said he'd be back in half an hour, and if she was still here, he wouldn't be happy. . . and Rose wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

Jack had started whistling out of boredom, his echoing melody leading Cal back to the room. When he got back, the water was past his knees. Jack had put his feet up onto the chair, and when he heard the door swing open, the water splashing as Cal walked into the room, he turned around and asked, "Did you leave a tap running?"

Cal laughed slightly, and replied, "I'm not that clumzy."

"I sure hope not... did you get it?"

Cal raised his arm and revealed the axe, glimmering in the sterile light of the white room. "Indeed I did."

"Did ya find it okay?"

"If you mean did I get lost, yes I did." He admitted hesitantly, grumbling.

Jack laughed at him, "At least you didn;t get stuck in the hallways."

"Stuck?"

"Yeah... with that big head of yours!" Jack was buckled with laughter, unable to control himself.

And Cal couldn't control himself any longer. "Do you want me to chop off your handcuffs or your head?"

Jack slowly stopped, trying to catch his breath. "Well that's an empty threat if ever I've heard one."

"It's not a threat, it's a promise."

"Cal, you'd hit Rose, but when you had the chance to hit Thomas, you didn't. You're not as tough as you like to think."

"I didn't want to disrupt the church service any more than you already had." Cal tried defending himself to no avail.

"No... YOU just didn't want to get your hands dirty. That's Love joy's job, and we all know it."

"What makes you so sure?" Cal tried not to sound insulted, curious as to what Jack was getting at.

"Lovejoy was here earlier, keeping an eye on me."

"Yes, I heard."

"And in all the time he was here with me, do you think he never bad mouthed you? I know what you've done to Rose, and I know what Lovejoy has done in order to help you up the ladder of success, standing on everyone's head as you go. You're a weak man Cal, who needs money and a hot girl on his arm to feel strong."

Cal was utterly speechless. He didn't know what to say. He wanted to roar Jack down and tell him he was wrong... but something inside him made him accept the verbal bashing... for something inside him knew it was right.

Jack continued, "Why else would you be here? Because Lovejoy let you down earlier when he couldn't find Rose, and the only other person you know willing to get their hands dirty is me. . . I'm not complaining, I'm flattered, truly. . . all I'm saying is, do NOT play the hard man act with me, because I know you better than you know yourself... now get hacking!" He commanded.

Cal stood for a moment, absorbing what had just been said, and without further ado, he walked over to Jack, stood by his side, and raised the axe above his head. It amazed him how steady his hands were.

"How's your aim?" Jack asked, closing his eyes nervously.

"I guess we'll find out." and with that, the axe came thrashing down, hitting off of the handcuffs and slicing Jack's forearm slightly. The clunk of metal hitting metal erupted upwards, and the axe came to a halt. Cal looked down as Jack lifted his arms and stretched. "That's more like it!"

"I've hurt you."

"Nah, it's nothing. A scratch." Jack said, licking the blood off of his arm. "It'll stop bleeding soon enough... take off your coat."

"What?" Cal asked, throwing the axe down into the water with a splash, the water which had now risen to his thighs.

"Take off your coat, just do it!"

Cal did as he was told, throwing off his tuxedo jacket to revail his white shirt and black bow tie. Jack stood up, bending his back and rubbing his wrists. He walked over to Cal, grabbed the shoulder of his shirt and pulled at it, ripping the stitches of the shirt arm. "What do you think your doing?" Cal demanded.

"I'm improvising." He ripped away at the arm until it came apart from the rest of the shirt, pulling it off of Cal's muscular arm. He then wrapped it around his bloody wound and smiled proudly. "Living on the streets teaches you to survive no matter what, using anything and anyone to get by."

"You owe me a new shirt." Cal said, half joking.

The young blonde haired beauty with the beaten face glared him in the eyes coldly. "Look around ass hole. The ship is sinking, and you're worried about a shirt? That's the least of your worries. I'm sure people are gonna lose a lot more when this ship hits the bottom of the Ocean."

The pair were silent for a moment, staring each other down like cowboys in a western, and then Jack asked, "So what's the plan of action?"

Suddenly, as the ship lurched forward into the water even more, all of the books on the shelf across the room came sliding off one by one, dropping into the water below loudly. "Step one, we get out of E-Deck as soon as possible." Cal said, as he put his coat back on and turned on his heels, wading out of the room.

"Oh shit this is cold! Oh SHIT!" Jack exclaimed as he followed suit.

Cal got out into the hallway, which was much darker now. Looking to his right, he saw where he had come from only 15 minutes before. It was now totally inaccessible, for the water had risen to ceiling level. It was a roiling white chaos of foaming white waves that were surging forth through the door with pile driver force. The lights beneath the surface that were still alight gave the water an eerie green glow, and one wall lamp had sparks of electricity shooting out of it. It was a sight unlike any other. To see the interiors of a ship filled with water and tilting downwards into the flooding like this was a nightmare. Cal had frozen with shock, staring at the sight at the end of the corridor open mouthed.

"So what's the NEXT step once we're out of here?" Jack asked, walking away. Cal snapped out of his trance and did as Jack did.

"We find Mr Andrews, make sure he's not with Rose, and then we get him alone. We need to have a few words with our good friend Mr Andrews." Cal spoke menacingly, giving away very little of his plan.

"And once we get him alone... what do we do?"

Cal reached into his coat pocket and pulled his hand out, revealing the shiny handle of a silver gun. It gleamed in his hand as Jack watched on, mesmerised by it's shine. "I'm not sure... we'll improvise."


	19. Chapter 19

**April 15****th**** 1912 - 01:30am**

"I'm not taking no as an answer Miss! I wouldn't be doing this if it wasn't urgent." The officer said as he dragged the young red head by the arm out of the Grand Staircase and onto the boat deck. Rose struggled and tried to break free.

"You can't do this!" She shouted at him.

"Yes I can, and I am!" He had offered to let her onto a lifeboat many times, and each time she refused, but he wasn't going to sit back and let her go down with the ship. Not a beautiful young lady such as this, with her whole life ahead of her.

"I'm not going without him!"

"Look, that's what they all say Miss, but you have to. It's women and children only." He was almost to the lifeboat now. Other passengers watched on in confusion at the girl, desperate to escape him.

"No, I can't leave, not without seeing him!"

"Miss, there's no time to waste."

"Please, I'm begging you, Please!" Rose pleaded, tears streaming down her face. The officer felt her hand gripping his arm desperately, her voice trembling. He turned around and let her go, giving in to her pleading.

"Miss, most people are begging to get onto the boats and you're begging to stay off of them… I don't understand."

"Neither do I… it makes no sense, does it?" She wiped away a tear from her eye and continued, "But the only reason you're still on this ship is because you feel a sense of duty… you need to stay here and make sure everyone is okay... I need to stay here and make sure that he's okay… I can't just go, not without seeing him and making sure he's alright." Rose wiped away a tear and stood staring into the man's eyes, her big blue eyes begging to stay.

The officer looked over his shoulder at the awaiting lifeboat, still being filled with people, and then he looked back at Rose. He couldn't say no… not to a face like that. "You better go find him then."

She immediately flung her arms around him, thanking him and whispered into his ear, "Good luck to you."

He let her go and rubbed her arm comfortingly, "And to you miss."

And then she was gone, rushing through the crowds, shoving past them shamelessly. She didn't know where Thomas was, but she had to find him. She had waited long enough, and spent too much time thinking. Thinking had never got her anywhere. Throwing caution to the wind and taking risks was what got her places. It's what got her into Thomas; arms in the first place, and she was risking her life right now just to be in his arms again. Just as she was running, she stopped and listened to her surroundings. Through the mass of crying and voices in conversation, she heard music. She looked behind her, and there on deck she saw the ship's band, the infamous string quartet, playing joyful music. . . everyone had their duties to perform tonight. . . everyone including Thomas, but where was he?

Captain Smith walked over to bridge, looking behind him at all his officers performing their duties expertly. None of them could have expected this to happen, especially not to the Titanic, and on her maiden voyage too. His heart sank at the thought of this ship disappearing beneath the waves, but he felt so proud of all these young men for doing their job so well. He was planning to retire after this voyage and settle down at last with his wife and young child… he tried not to think of them too much. It made dealing with the fact he was bound to die tonight a lot harder to cope with. He put his hands behind his back, and slowly turned, walking over to the edge of the bridge casually, glancing down onto the well deck, and as he looked down, the well deck became level with the surface of the ocean and began to submerge, tons of gushing water pouring down onto the deck as the bow sank deeper. Seeing this really terrified him, for now that her forecastle was starting to go down, that was not a good sign. She was disappearing fast. Suddenly, there was a loud whoosh, and a loud bang as a flash of light exploded in the dark night sky, illuminating the depressing scene on board with a hypnotic glow and sparkle. It was one of many distress flares to have been set off that night, along with the CQD distress call… but the nearest ship was 4 hours away… there was no helping her now… the Titanic was doomed.

Cal and Jack, both drenched, came ascending up from beneath the Grand Staircase, having journeyed from the flooded bowels of the vessel. 1st class passengers looked at Cal in his tuxedo, his slicked back hair now wet and messy. And they saw Jack in his dirty steerage clothes wearing broken handcuffs and a bloody rag, his face black and blue. Quite a contrast.

"Holy SHIT look at this place!" Jack squealed in excitement, admiring the massive glass dome above him, and stroking the marble steps with his hands.

Cal yanked him up by the back of his shirt and stood him up. "Don't do that! You look like a dog!"

"I thought I was a rat?"

"A dog, a rat, WHATEVER! The point is we need to blend in."

Jack stopped halfway up the stairs and looked around him, taking in every pair of eyes that was eyeing him up and down curiously. "Well I don't think that's working. . . why are we up here anyway?"

"Well we need to find Rose and Thomas, find out where they are, if they're together, if they're even still on the ship." Cal scanned the faces around him at the top of the steps. He didn't see Rose here.

"And then what?" Jack suddenly felt very self-conscious as he approached the boat deck.

"Like I said, I'm improvising… you wait here, I'll go check this side of the deck, and if she's not here I'll come back and get you and we'll check the other side."

"Why do I have to stay here?"

"Look at you, you're a mess! Rose will run a mile. And if she's with Thomas and he sees you, then our plan is ruined."

"What plan?" Jack was losing patience. "You're treating me like a fucking child!"

"Then stop acting like one!" and then Cal stepped outside onto the boat deck.

Jack swore under his breath, kicked the marble floor, punched the oak wall, hurting his fist and then noticed a 1st class gentleman in a top hat staring at him. "WHAT?"

It was freezing up on deck, and Cal's drenched clothes stuck to him and seemed to turn to ice out in the open sea air. The ship was listing incredibly, and a lot of the lifeboats were already gone. The deck looked much larger with them out of the way. To his side sat the ship's band, playing a melodic waltz. He turned his nose up at them and said, "Nobody's listening to you… I'd give up." and then walked off.

"Bastard." Grumbled one of the musicians, but he continued to play his violin cheerfully.

At that moment, he saw Rose, standing in the middle of the deck, staring at the band in a hypnotic state, looking so perfect. Her burning red hair and white porcelain skin, in that long pink coat and white high heels. "Rose!" he called out.

She swung her head around and saw him. "You're awake now, are you? . . . you're soaked, where have you been?"

Cal looked down at his trousers and then up at his fiancée. "What are you still doing on the ship? Where's Ruth?"

"Mother's gone. I saw her off, she's fine." Rose looked out to sea. The pitch black horizon beyond the ship that circled her for miles.

"Why didn't you go with her?" Cal knew the answer, and Rose knew that he knew. She simply looked him in the eye, a hard look that said, "_I didn't stay for you."_

"Of course… how stupid of me to ask… are you alright?"

"I'm fine. . . I will be, as soon as I find him." Rose looked around her, trying to spot his face in the crowds.

Just then, a dog came rushing past Rose, brushing against her coat. She and Cal watched it run off, and then, out of nowhere, an entire herd of dogs of all different shapes and sizes, colours and breeds came charging across the boat deck. A large Dalmatian knocked Rose off of her feet and she feel to the floor. All of the passengers stepped aside and gasped in shock as the animals barked and ran for the bow. Cal held out a hand for Rose, which she grudgingly took, and helped her up.

"Are you still 'fine' after that?" he joked, brushing her coat down.

She laughed lightly, "Yes, yes I am. . . I wonder who let them out." She stared at the surreal scene of a crowd of dogs wandering the boat deck of a sinking ship.

"I'm not sure… at least they have a chance of surviving now… it'd be a shame to let them drown down there in their kennels, chained up like animals." Cal tried to sound as caring as he could, the truth of the matter being he couldn't care less about the beasts that had been unleashed into the chaos aboard The Titanic.

Just then, something shiny caught his eye on the floor beside his foot. He looked down and saw a key laying there, unwanted. He bent down to inspect it, and engraved onto the key was the cabin number, "A 23." He knew for a fact that this was Mr Andrews cabin number from what Lovejoy had told him. Did this fall from Rose's pocket? Why did she have it? It didn't matter, for he had it now.

"What are you doing?" Rose asked in confusion, looking down at Cal as he stared at something in his hand, crouched on the floor like a homeless man.

"I… um… I found a dime." He smiled and shoved the key into his pocket, next to the gun.

"Really? You're picking up stray dimes? You'd think you were in need of more money." She rolled her eyes.

"A man can never have too much money!" He stood and wrapped his arms around Rose. She was caught off guard by the embrace and shrugged him off.

"Cal, when I leave this ship, I'm-"

"Hold onto that thought my precious!" Cal shouted, cutting her off as he turned around and ran back inside. Rose was utterly confused. She hadn't seen him all night, and now that she had he was acting very unusual. Was the drink still playing with him? He was gone now, and she didn't know where to or why… and she didn't care in the slightest. She went on her way again, her heart set on finding her lover.

Cal pushed through the revolving doors and back into the Grand Staircase, where he saw Jack, laying down on a comfortable arm chair. He jumped up when he saw Cal and his immense grin. "Well?"

Cal brought out the key and held it in front of Jack's eye… the one that WASN'T black and swollen. "I am one lucky man, Jack! One lucky man indeed!"

"Is that?"

"Mr Andrews room key? It is indeed!"

"Well what are we waiting for, let's go rob the son of a bitch!" Jack was about to run off, but Cal grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him in his tracks.

He put the key back into his pocket and paused, before saying, "I have a better idea."

**April 15th 1912 - 01:40am**

Molly and Ruth sat in their lifeboat in the middle of the sea, looking at the glowing object of the Tiatnic in the distance, angling itself further and further into the water. Ruth was leaning on Molly's shoulder, no longer able to cry. Her eyes had run dry, but the icy air had froze them in place as they stared on in fear at the vessel that her baby was still on. She dared not look away.

"Well there's something you don't see every day." Molly whispered to Ruth, stroking her hair soothingly.

Suddenly, another flare came shooting upwards from her deck, exploding in the sky, the twinkling ashes of the rocket falling down to the sea and sizzling out as they touched the water.

"What if she-"

"Don't torture yourself Ruth... she'll have gone back to the room to get some of her things and then got onto the next boat. You'll see her in the morning honey... I promise."

Back on deck, Thomas took out his pocket watch. He was amzed that the ship had lasted this whole hour since the collision. He guessed that now, with the amount of ship submerged at her bow, she had perhaps half an hour or so left above the surface. After that, Neptune would decide her fate. Right now, God was busy listening to the prayers of all those aboard. Just then, a little girl with red hair and a wolly hat, wearing dull clothes and ripped stockings with dirty boots came running over to the tall man in the long overcoat. She tugged at the bottom of his coat and he spun round to see her, crouching down to her level.

"Can I help you my darling?" He asked politely, smiling pleasently.

"Are you Mr Andrews?" She asked shyly.

"Why yes I am."

"There are two men robbing you right now... Mumma and I walked past your room and heard them talking about it, and then they just barged right in." She said, looking down at the wooden planks of the deck floor.

"What? Are you sure?" he asked in astonishment.

She nodded.

"Those dirty little bastards!" He muttered under his breath as he stood up. "Nowhere is sacred on a shipwreck! They'll be stealing to booze out of the kitchens next!" and with that he had dashed off, thanking the girl as he raced inside to get to his room.

The girl watched him leave, made sure he was gone, and then skipped merrily to the back of the wheelhouse, amidst the shadows of the boat deck. A suited man stepped out holding a small bundle of money, and asked, "Did you do it?"

She nodded, smiling, unable to look away from the money. "Yeah. He believed me."

"Good girl." He said, laughing at her wide eyes, almost drooling over the green paper. He handed her the money and ruffled her hair. "Now go find your mummy. . . and remember, you never saw me."

Before he could finish his sentence she had run off into the crowds of passengars. The man in the tuxedo stepped out of the shadows and pushed his hair back with his hand, putting it back into place. He straightened his bow tie, straightened his coat and then walked out onto deck. Cal was good at getting what he wanted... and money had no value to him right now. All he wanted was Rose... and the plan that was starting to take action would hopefully be the only way to get her back.

Thomas raced down stairwells and through hallways, his goal being his own cabin, which was apparently the scene of a shameful robbery. He bumped into a maid, locking her bedroom door, and before he left her he stopped her and said, "Lucille, put on your lifebelt and get onto a lifeboat, set a good example." and then continued running.

When he rounded the corner, he expected to see the crime in progress. Instead, with his heart pumping like the Titanics engines once were, and his breath panting like a dog, he saw nothing. The hallway was empty, quiet, and his door was shut. He slowly walked over, trying not to make a sound. He approached his own cabin as if he was an intruder. He carefully put his hand on the door handle and turned the knob. It was locked. His room wasn't being robbed. All of a sudden, there was a bang against the door from the inside. Someone was inside his room... but who? He didn't know who was in there pounding the door until a voice yelled, "Let me out of here you son of a bitch! Cal? Cal? I know you're there!" . . . it was Jack! Mr Andrews stepped away from the door and looked at it in horror and confusion. "_What the fuck is going on?_" He whispered to himself.

Rose thought she had seen Thomas talking to a little girl from a far, but she wasn't sure. She tried to run across the deck and get to him, but by the time she had pushed her way through the crowds, he was gone. She stomped her foot in frustration. It was like chasing shadows. Just then, her fiance appeared out of the blue. "Rose!"

"Cal... have you seen Thomas?"

"Thomas... Thomas... Oh, you mean Mr Andrews? No, I'm afraid I haven't." He replied, pouting his lip mockingly. "But I don't think he'll be joining us anytime soon."

"Pardon?" Rose asked, confused.

Cal smiled at Rose, conataining his laughter. "He's fine... for now anyway... Jack's keeping him company down in his cabin."

Rose's jaw dropped. She stared into his eyes, filled with pure evil, and his shining white teeth grinning cheerily. She hated him more than anything, now more than ever. What had he done? She couldn't bare to be around him. "You unimaginable bastard." Were the only words she could mutter. And with no time to waste, she began to run off, headed for his cabin.

"Oh, Rose!" Cal shouted after her.

She stopped and swung her head round to see a small silver object flying towards her, landing at her feet with a thud.

"His cabin key... I guess you'll be wanting that back... and hurry, Jack is not best pleased with Mr Andrews for stealing his girl... my gun may just be put to good use in Jack's posession... when animals are locked up for long enough, they do start to lose it... You'd better hope that Jack's bark is much worse than his bite."


	20. Chapter 20

**April 15****th**** 1912 - 01:45am**

How was Jack out of his confinement in 3rd class? Rose had been told by Ruth that he was locked up. Cal was soaked, and the only way he could have got so drenched was if he went down to 3rd class, for his cabin was on B-Deck which was nowhere near the flooding. Had Cal freed him? Rose was furious, and as she charged through the angled hallways, pushing past other people as they vacated their cabins, she could only think about Thomas. Jack had a personal vendetta against him, and he had been left in Thomas' room with Cal's gun. The thought alone made Rose feel sick.

Thomas was standing against the wall, staring at his cabin door as the door knob rattled and turned. Another thud against the door, and an enraged Jack spoke again, begging for Cal to release him. Thomas debated with himself. Should he speak to Jack? Another forceful bash against the door, and Jack swore in pain. Thomas was frozen with fear.

Mother was safe. That made Rose's mind more at ease. Cal was being his usual bastard self. This didn't surprise Rose. But he had brought Jack into the equation, and from what Rose had seen at the church service earlier that day, he was insane. He had smashed an innocent steward in the face, punched and kicked a metal gate as if it were breakable, but the thing that had stuck out in her mind the most was when he was talking to Thomas, and he pointed at Rose, singling her out… but why? She still didn't know.

Thomas couldn't ignore it anymore. The door was shaking wildly as the teenager violently thrusted himself against it. It was like waiting for a bull to escape from a china shop. He spoke nervously, not wanting to irritate the beast any more than it already was.

"Jack . . ."

All of a sudden, there was silence. The thrashing ceased. Jack fell mute.

Thomas listened, expecting him to say something… he broke the eerie silence. "Jack, it's Mr Andrews… may I ask what the hell you're doing locked in my room?"

Silence yet again, but Thomas knew he was listening.

"Son, correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you meant to be downstairs in handcuffs? . . . how did you get out?"

"I made a new friend today, Mr Andrews." Jack whispered menacingly through the door.

Thomas didn't know what to say. "Well… um… that's good."

"He has a lot in common with me."

"I see."

Jack began laughing, tapping the door rhythmically. "Yeah… he's a rat like me."

"Cal?"

"Good guess."

Thomas scoffed, half laughing, thinking about Cal. "It's my ship. I can smell out rats as easy as I can find a leak."

"Well there's a leak downstairs that you might want to see to… looks pretty bad." Jack teased him, playing on his weakness.

Thomas clenched his fists. He knew very well that there was a "leak" downstairs which he was incapable of stopping, and it was eating him up inside. "Jack, has Cal locked you in here?"

"I'm nodding." He replied.

"Right… how did he get my room key? I gave that to-"

"Rose." Jack cut him off. "She's quite a foolish girl, allowing things to fall into the wrong hands… allowing herself to fall into the wrong bed."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Your pillows… your room… your wardrobe… It smells of Rose… rats have good noses."

Thomas was horrified. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. "How long have you been in here?"

"Long enough… now open the door, Sir . . . _please_?" he added sarcastically.

"Jack… I don't have the key, you know that."

"It's your ship; surely you should have a spare one or something."

"Son, I'm afraid I don't. As far as I knew, Rose had the key. I have no idea how Caledon got it."

There was silence again… and it continued to stay silent… Thomas wanted him to talk, not knowing what he was up to. "Son, if you're looking for money in there I should tell you now I don't keep it in my cabin."

Jack began cackling with laughter. "You really think I've been locked in here to rob you? Huh? DO YOU? Is that what you think of me?"

"Jack . . . I don't know what to think of you." He admitted hesitantly.

"Well, I'll tell you this. Cal locked me in here, with his gun, and he told me that he wouldn't let me back out until I had shot you."

Thomas fell silent now. He was speechless. Was Jack bluffing?

"Now, his plan isn't going to work exactly that way he would have wanted it to, because you don't have a spare key… but I don't think that matters… bullets can go through doors, right?"

Rose was almost at his room now. It wasn't far. She knew these hallways better than her own. She wanted nothing more than to get to Thomas and make sure he was alright. She passed A-15. Not far now. It was just around the corner.

_BANG! BANG! BANG!_

Rose froze on the spot, the sound of gun fire echoing overhead, bouncing off of the walls around her and traveling up the stairs, making passengers in the Grand Staircase jump in fright, confused as to where the sound had come from.

"Oh God." She whispered to herself and raced to the end of the hallway, screaming, "Thomas! Thomas!"

She darted into the corridor and saw Thomas, laying on the floor. "Thomas?" she asked, fearfully, looking at his body. She glanced at his cabin door, and there were two distinct bullet holes, smoke rising from them. The bullets themselves were in the wall opposite. "Thomas?" Rose whispered, her eyes welling up as she stared in terror at his lifeless body..

He didn't move . . . and then, he rolled over, looking up at the wall and over at his beloved red headed girl. "The little bastard just shot at me!" he grumbled.

"Thank God you're alright!" she exclaimed joyfully, a tear running down her cheek, her heart slowing down. "I've been looking for you all night."

"Shame you had to find me like this." He half joked, brushing dust off of his overcoat.

Rose was about to rush forward and embrace him, but Thomas held out a hand, backing her away. "Don't pass the door Rose! He still has the gun, I don't want him shooting you."

Rose looked at the wall again, and then at Thomas, who was slowly getting up. "He shot three times… where's the third bullet?"

Thomas surveyed where Rose was staring, and confused, he too thought of the amount of shots he had heard. Inspecting the door he saw only two bullet holes.

Rose spoke what Thomas was thinking. "Did he… shoot himself?"

Thomas didn't know what to think... it was quiet… too quiet…

He rolled over onto his hands and knees and scurried to the side of the door, out of the firing line. A shard of white painted wood went into his hand and he swore under his breath. "_Good thing these doors won't ever be used again_." He thought to himself. When he was by the side of his cabin door, he put an ear against the wall… nothing… he heard absolutely nothing… He knocked on the door… still nothing.

"He hasn't." Rose gasped in disbelief.

"He bloody well has… what brought you here?" He suddenly realized that Rose had appeared at exactly the right time... or wrong time, depending on how you looked at it.

"Cal did… he told me that you would be here… with _him." _She pointed to the door, which had been separating Thomas and the young rebel for too long. Thomas needed to get in.

"Rose, Cal has my room key. How the hell did he get it, I gave it to you!"

"I don't know Thomas, I don't know, but he gave it back to me." She dipped into her coat pocket and revealed the key, shining in the bright white lights of the 1st class hallway.

"Why would he-?"

"Thomas, you need to open the door and see if he's alright."

"WHAT?" Thomas signalled to the smouldering bullet holes and entry marks in the wall, his eyes wide with shock.

"We can't leave him." Rose couldn't walk away without knowing he'd be alright… not out of compassion, but out of the fear of guilt. She couldn't walk away from tonight knowing she had left a man half dead inside a locked cabin to drown as the ship around him disappeared beneath the waves.

Thomas knew she was right. He felt his coat pockets, and then realized his mistake. "Rose… the key?"

She caught on and carefully threw the key across to him, he caught it, and then slowly, as if breaking into a secured bank, he placed the key into the keyhole, the loud click of the entry and the turning of the lock amplified intensely in the dead silence of the corridor. The air felt heavy and seemed to push down on Thomas' shoulders as he opened the door, shaking nervously, not knowing what he would see on the other side. Rose watched on in anticipation.

And then, the door slowly began to swing open, creaking all the way as it went. The endless sound, like nails on a blackboard, screeched through the air chillingly as Thomas' bedroom came into view. And inside the bedroom was the sight that they had both feared. Jack's body lay slumped on the floor, face down, blood on the carpet. Rose shrieked slightly, like a puppy whose tail had been walked upon, and she covered her eyes. Thomas blessed himself and stepped inside. The young boy… so young… motionless, the gun still in his hand, but his arm was spreads out, his other arm under his body. His ribs weren't moving, and he made absolutely no noise… he kicked his leg with his pointed black shoe…no response… he was a corpse, and it made Thomas feel sick.

"This is my fault… this is all my fault!" He collapsed onto the floor and started pounding his hands against his forehead.

Rose, seeing Thomas in his current state rushed over and wrapped her arms around him. "This is NOT your fault!"

"Rose, if I had just left you alone, if I had ignored my feelings and desires, then he would still be alive! He's just a boy!" Thomas was sobbing now, and sprung forward, wrapping his arms around Jack's body, cradling him. Rose watched on speechless, not knowing how to comfort him as he comforted a dead Jack.

"Everything I touch falls apart… Emilia, Jack, THIS SHIP!"

"Thomas, you could NOT have predicted the sinking of The Titanic… no one could have! And Emilia was ill, how could you stop that?" Rose stroked his hair and kissed his forehead affectionately.

Thomas went quiet, and pulling away from Jack, letting his body fall to the floor, he slowly turned his head to look at Rose, his eyes red and his nose running. "please go, Rose... leave me!"

"What?" She asked in confusion, wiping away his tears. "I'm not leaving you, Thomas… I'll never leave you."

"You have to… I don't want you getting hurt too… these hands…" he held up his hands, hands that had created such beauty and sculpted art, fixed furniture and mended hearts, "… these hands are strong hands… they break anything they touch."

Rose grabbed his hand and placed it onto her chest, her heart beating strongly beneath his palm. "No! That is not true! Cal broke my heart, my mother broke my heart, my father's death broke my heart… YOU found all the pieces and put them back together… you are not a bad man, Thomas! Cal and Jack are the ones who should be riddled with guilt." She kissed him, long and hard, squeezing him tightly with her embrace.

Thomas listened to her words, finding comfort in them. He stood up, weakly, shaking still, wiping his eyes. "Come, young Rose… we need to get you to safety… if I only have tonight left to live, I want to do something right for once."

"Don't talk like that." Rose said, holding his hand as they left the room. "You're going to get off of this ship with me."

"I wish I could… but I don't deserve to." He looked around him at the tilting hallways of his own creation, as it flooded more and more, sinking faster and faster as time went by. There was a groaning of metal as the ship lurched forth and dipped deeper beneath the surface, and Rose and Thomas almost lost their footing as they left the room. He took out his pocket watch once more, dreading to see the time, knowing that each minute he spent with Rose now was one moment of heaven, but one step closer to death… he could be held responsible for the sinking of the Titanic, and he felt that he would be… but if he could save at least one life, just one, then he would. "Rose, we're going to go up to the boat deck, find a lifeboat and get you on it." She went to resist, but he stopped her. "I'm not going to argue Rose, I don't have any fight left in me."

Suddenly, a voice spoke from behind. "I hope you have a little bit of fight left in you old man… cause I've not finished with you yet!"

Thomas turned sharply, shoving Rose behind his back, and to his horror, he saw Jack, standing at his cabin door, aiming the gun squarely at his head.

"Rats are a pest, y'know…" Jack shrugged, the gun keeping a fixed aim on Mr Andrews, as he stared on as white as a ghost. "You think they're gone, out of sight and out of mind… but they always come back for seconds."


	21. Chapter 21

**April 15****th**** 1912 - 01:50am**

Rose hid behind Thomas, not seeing Jack, but hearing his voice. He was alive? He was clearly a good actor. He'd have to be to get by on the streets for so long. After all, actors are just good liars. Perhaps that was the reason Rose wanted to be an actress. Lying to Cal by saying, "I love you" and "I want you more than anything" had taught her how to be a professional in the art of deception. "I was tired" when really she meant, "I was tired of being with you so I spent the night with Thomas." All of these thoughts, insignificant thoughts that seemed trivial given the circumstances, started rushing around in her mind, faster than the blood that was coursing through her veins, pumping at a fast and steady pace, terrified of the prospect of being shot. Would it hurt? Would the pain last? . . . does anything in this world last?

"Jack… please, put the gun down. We can talk about-"

"No! I'm done talking! All you 1st class bitches ever do is talk, talk, talk!" he snapped.

Thomas couldn't take his attention off of the gun as it was waved in the direction of his face like a stern finger. "Jack, you don't want to do this… this is all Cal's idea."

"You saying I can't think for myself?" Jack straightened his arm out and stiffened his muscles, keeping his aim locked at Mr Andrews who was just meters away from him.

"You're not like this, son." Thomas tried his best to calm Jack down and ease the situation… but it never worked.

"Stop calling me son! You're not my Dad! My Dad's dead and it's all my fault! . . . So yes, I AM like this . . . I have been since I was 13 . . . Since my folks died." He looked to the floor slightly, his eyes softening, his mind wandering... And then he came back, his snarling teeth and hateful eyes returning. "I killed them, and I'll kill you!"

"And prove the men that did _THAT_ to you right?" Thomas pointed at his battered face. "Prove that you _ARE_ the filth they think you are? You're playing right into their hands, Jack! Put the gun down and be the bigger man!"

Jack didn't reply. Instead, he lowered the gun and began walking out into the hallway, his arm uncovered by Cal's shirt sleeve, revealing the bloody wound caused by the axe, the horrible flaw exposed, quite like his tortured face. Tortured by his own perusal demons. Tortured by the authorities that had inflicted pain onto him for being scum in their eyes. Tortured by the fact that everyone had what he wanted… happiness.

As he advanced onto them, walking casually and calmly, brushing a controlled hand through his blonde hair, Thomas put his hands behind his back and grabbed Rose tightly, reassuring her that everything would be alright… truth be told, he had no idea what was about to happen. Rose held onto his waist, cowering in fear, shaking. Just then, the lights began to dim, slowly fading on and off, shadowing the sloping hallway. The sound of metal being pushed to its limit screeched from below and echoed through the air, as if the ship was crying for mercy from the punishing sea. The floor tilted upwards once more, and the three of them stumbled slightly as the ground beneath their feet shifted. The fact that they could feel this scared them all, although Jack tried not to show it. The lights continued to flicker as their surroundings moved, but the targeted couple stayed firmly in place, their eyes transfixed on the gun.

Thomas looked around him and surveyed the current situation. He felt Rose trembling behind him, a constant reminder of the life he had to save… even if it meant losing his own. "Jack, there's no time for this."

"There's plenty of time! Death is instantaneous."

Rose gripped Thomas' waist at the mention of death. Thomas put a gentle hand on her head, stroking her hair. "Jack… please… what do you want?"

He stared at Thomas, as if he had said something foreign, turning his head to the side and furrowing his brow. "What do I want?" and then, his confused and almost insulted face slowly grew into a wide grin, and he began laughing, throwing his head back wildly as he chuckled hysterically. And then, abruptly, he stopped laughing, and his face was serious once more. "Thomas… you know what I want…" Using the gun, he pointed at Thomas' waist, signalling to what was behind him. "I want the girl… I want Rose!" Raising the gun, he placed a finger on the trigger and aimed it at him again. "And no middle aged Miser is gonna take her from me."

Thomas wasn't waiting any longer. Shoving Rose off of him, he shouted, "Go now!" and stumbling, almost tripping over her own feet, she darted out of the hallway, through the darkness of the following corridor as the lights faded back on weakly. Thomas grabbed Jacks arm, shoving it upwards and wrestling him for the gun. Jack attempted to knee him in the groin, but Thomas lifted his knee and blocked it, tripping him up as they fought for the weapon. During the struggle, Jack pulled the trigger and shot into the ceiling, plaster falling down onto them. When Rose heard the _BANG_ of the gun, she screamed in fright, but kept running, her goal being the Grand Staircase.

With the Titanic's bow sinking further and further beneath the ocean, her stern beginning to rise out of the water, the floor on which they stood was angled significantly, causing the two men to lose their footing, falling over in the midst of their wrestle. Thomas pinned Jack's arms down onto the floor and sat on top of the teenager's chest, a leg on either side of him. Holding him down, he raised a clenched fist above his already ruined face and growled, "I might be middle aged… but I am NOT a Miser!" and with one swift blow, he had knocked out one of Jack's teeth. With the young man disorientated and crying out in pain, Thomas stood up, stroking his fist almost apologetically, and headed down the hallway after Rose, shrouded in shadow, the electricity failing. However, a new found energy was rising up inside of Thomas.

Rose heard footsteps behind her, and not knowing who was following her, she sped up. The lights in this hallway had gone off entirely. She swung her head around, her red hair flying over her shoulders, her long pink coat trailing like a flag in the wind. Behind her, she saw a tall black shadow chasing after her. Was it Jack? Or was it Thomas? It didn't matter. The light at the end of the tunnel was now showing, as the elegant Grand Staircase came into view, illuminating the hallway.

"Rose!" she heard Thomas shouting. She stopped and looked behind her. It _WAS_ Thomas. "Rose, keep going!"

She did as she was told and kept running, knowing he would catch up eventually. She made it out into the Grand Staircase, which wasn't as empty as she thought it might have been. There were 1st class gentleman, and several women also, strolling around the top floor, making their way out onto the boat deck casually, hoping to catch the last lifeboat as if it were the last bus home. Down on the floor below sat Benjamin Guggenheim, dressed in his best and prepared to go down like a gentleman, holding a glass of brandy in his hand, chatting socially to a friend. Just then, as she stood at the banister, looking down at this sight, Thomas came charging out behind her, grabbing her by the hand, pulling her along with him as he ran for the stairs. With the entire room tilting backwards at such a degree, it felt odd descending the marble stairs, for their centre of gravity felt off balance. The marvellous dome above them continued to shine down effortlessly, seemingly unaffected by the sinking… not affected yet anyway.

The couple stopped at the bottom of the steps, standing by the cherub who held a glowing torch in his hands, the shining bronze looking so polished and new. Thomas gazed at the sculpture, remembering the day they had bolted it in place on the ship, back in 1911… it was a shame that such beauty had to fall victim to the fury of the unforgiving sea. Suddenly, there was the screech of footsteps from above, and Rose looked up sharply, spotting Jack at the banister on the top floor, surveying the room . . . and then, he saw them. "Oh God, we have to move!" Rose gasped, tugging Thomas by his overcoat. The shine of the gun came into view as the begrudged boy took aim, and then the couple were off, like ducks on a pond, fleeing the scene of a cruel blood sport.

The first flight of stairs down, the next flight to go, and the blood thirsty Jack on their tail. Thomas excused himself and pardoned his hurried actions as he almost knocked passengers over who were climbing up the stairs, he himself flying down them, three steps at a time. Rose struggled to keep up. Jack rushed down the stairs, blood pouring from his mouth, foaming like a wild beast. He grabbed anyone who got in his way and flung them aside like a sack of potatoes, not caring or even knowing about his movements. His sights were set on the fiery red head, his trophy once the grey haired man was finished with.

Thomas looked down the spiralling staircase that led from A – Deck, twisting down elegantly towards E – Deck far below. The staircase seemed to spiral down forever, but at the rate Thomas and Rose were going, it would take no time. As he looked down the centre of the stairs, he no longer saw the beautiful carpet far down below. Now, he saw glowing green ocean water, shimmering in the luminosity of the electric lights beneath its surface, lapping up onto the stairs, rising one step at a time. The flooding was slowly but surely making its way from the ship's bowels, right up to the grandeur of her upper levels.

Jack wasn't far behind them, only one flight above, and peering over the side of the stair-rail, he saw the lovers racing downwards. Impatiently and without a decent aim, he opened fire. _BANG!_ The bullet passed Rose, making her shriek and duck for cover, throwing her hands over her head. It embedded itself into the oak panelling of the wall. Grumbling with disappointment, he tried again, hoping he would hit something with a pulse, but to no prevail. _BANG! _The bullet bounced against the floor and ricochet off of the marble, hitting the ceiling. "Shit!" his voice echoed down the spiral stairs and penetrated Roses' ears, making her spine shiver. She shrugged off her coat, avoiding the risk of tripping up, and knowing that she was about to be swimming to safety, it would only slow her down. The pink garment lay abandoned on the stairs.

The bottom of the grand staircase is severely flooded. Thomas and Rose come down the stairs two at a time now, fleeing into the flooding headfirst, only to escape the shooting from above. They run straight into the water which has crept up many of the steps already, fording across the room which has now become like an Olympic sized swimming pool, until they get to where the floor slopes up, reaching dry footing at the entrance to the Dining Saloon. Thomas pulls her along, Rose's dress of thin layers now shockingly see-through, and they enter the room, with its endless rows of tables and chairs… endless rows of hiding places.

Jack looks down and sees the white trails in the water from where the couple had just been. He takes aim, knowing he wouldn't hit either of them, but it would serve as a reminder that he was still there. _BANG!_ A shot blasts into the water beside Rose, splashing her with a white spray. He's almost at the bottom of the stairs, but Jack's foot gets caught in something. The long pink coat trips him up, and he falls over, tumbling down the stairs, dropping his gun as he falls, grabbing onto the banister to stop himself from plummeting into the water. The gun bounces down the steps and into the flood, vanishing beneath the glowing green waves of boiling sea water, rising up furiously towards Jack. He stands up, rubbing his arm, looking ahead of him and into the Dining Saloon. The woodwork around him groans and creaks, and suddenly, the water starts to foam and bubble upwards from beneath the stairs wildly. Mustering up the courage to enter the water, he takes a deep breath and jumps in. It is unbelievably cold, and he grunts in pain as the icy demons kick him where it hurts. He submerges himself and feels around for the gun. Eventually he finds it, and he rises out of the water again, dripping wet, blood smeared over his face, his uncut hair hanging over his forehead. He tries to spot Thomas and Rose amongst the marble pillars and furniture in the Saloon, but he can't see any movement… he has no other choice but to go and find them himself.

Thomas and Rose are hidden, crouched behind a table surrounded by chairs, somewhere in the middle of the room. He hears only the sounds of his ship slowly dying, until he hears a rhythmic splashing of water, and then footsteps. Jack has entered the Dining Saloon. Thomas peers beneath the table, trying to see past the circle of wooden chair legs. It's like looking through a forest of trees. Jack appears and then disappears out of sight, searching every inch of the room carefully for his precious red-head. The troubled teen moves among the tables and ornate columns, searching... listening... his eyes tracking rapidly. It is a sea of tables, and they could be anywhere. A silver serving trolley rolls downhill, and as it passes he casually steps out of its way, allowing it to crash into the water which waits below.

He glances behind him. The water is following him into the room, advancing in a hundred foot wide tide. The reception room is now a roiling lake, and the grand staircase is submerged past the first landing. Monstrous groans echo through the ship.

Rose watches Thomas trustingly, knowing that he has her best interests at heart, and he would clearly take a bullet for her. The thought alone makes her eyes tear up. She puts her hands over her mouth to stop herself from breathing too heavily, not wanting to give away their hiding place. She couldn't believe that she had caused this. How was it possible? How could three men be after her heart? In finishing school she got bullied over her weight and her hair colour. Just then, they saw the water advancing toward them, swirling over the floor. Thomas waits until Jack has his back turned, and then, like an army officer commanding his troops, he signals for Rose to follow him. They crawl ahead of the waterline and to the next row of tables.

They reach the next table, and Thomas makes sure that Jack still hasn't noticed them… which he hasn't, luckily. He catches a glimpse of the gun still in his hand, and then he makes his decision.

"Stay here." Thomas whispered to Rose, stroking her face affectionately, planting a kiss on her lips. And then he crawled off, vanishing between the neighbouring group of tables and chairs, his long overcoat following behind him in the water, leaving a trail like a huge snail.

Jack moved over to the next row and looks along the tables. . . Nothing.

The ship groans and creaks and the lights flicker momentarily. He moves onto another row.

All of a sudden, five feet tall and stacked with piles of china dishes, a metal cart begins to slide down the sloping floor of the Dining Saloon. It rolls down the aisle between all of the tables. As it goes, it loses balance and falls over abruptly, smashing into a table. . . the table where Rose is hiding. The plates topple off the cart and explode, smashing over her. She yelps, not expecting that to have happened. Rose scrambles out of the way, trying not to impale her hand on a shard of broken plate.

Jack spins round, seeing her. His eyes grow, as if he has finally found the needle in this never ending haystack. He moves rapidly towards her, keeping the gun aimed. Rose turns and sees him. She freezes on the spot and closes her eyes, whimpering quietly, bracing herself for the shot to enter her body. The shining gun points at her face, and Jack laughs, "You're mine now bitch!"

That's when Thomas tackles him from the side. They slam together into a table, crashing over it, and toppling to the floor. They land in the water which is flowing rapidly between the tables. Mr Andrews and the young Mr Dawson grapple in the icy water. Thomas jams his knee down on Jack's hand, breaking his grip on the pistol, and kicks it away. The weapon disappears behind the endless labyrinth of furniture, skimming across the water like a pebble on the sea. Jack scrambles up and lunges at him furiously, but Thomas gut punches him right in the stomach, doubling him over.

"Beat up from an 'old man' twice in one night, eh Jack?" he moves his fist back, and Jack falls to the floor, holding his ribs in agony. "You're losing your touch… I'd give up while you still have a chance." He looks behind him and sees Rose, gripping onto the back of a chair desperately. She looks at an exhausted Jack, unarmed and harmed, and she jumps up, wrapping her arms around Thomas, kissing him passionately. The room shifts, another trolley comes hurtling down the aisle, vanishing into the water. Thomas takes out his pocket watch. The time is "02:05am." He knows now that there is no time to waste. Rose is still on board the ship. Not only that, but she is right in the middle of the flooding. She's avoided death too many times tonight, and he isn't going to stop trying to save her now. Jack doesn't have her, Thomas does, and he's going to do what he should have done hours ago.

"I'm getting you out of here now Rose! If we go through the galley and up the crew passage, there's a flight of stairs that will take us up to the boat deck. There may still be a boat if we hurry… if not, I know that there are collapsible boats near the bridge… either way, you're going to get out of here… I promise." He brings those big loving brown eyes round to stare into Rose's blue diamonds.

She nods, listening intently to him, seeing his mind working overtime. The ship's metal screeches in agony and he reacts as if he has been stabbed in the heart. To be in the middle of your creations death throws… Rose couldn't begin to comprehend what he was feeling. Thomas and Rose run aft, holding hands. They run uphill, entering the galley. Behind them the tables have become islands in a lake, and the far end of the room is flooded up to the ceiling. Sparks of electricity explode from several of the ceiling lights as the water rises up and touches them, glowing an eerie shade of green as the water continues to pour into the room, flipping over chairs and tables, washing away plates and cutlery.

Jack opens his eyes, looking up at the floor, the water beginning to wash up over him. He felt as if he was on the beach at Santa Monica again. When he was younger, he would lay on the beach as the tide came in and lapped up onto him relaxingly… and so he stayed on the floor… and didn't move… closing his eyes, he listened to the music of the ocean and hummed calmly…A hymn to the sea.


	22. Chapter 22

**15th April 1912 – 02:05am**

Holding her hand tightly, he guided her through the angled hallway, escaping the carnage of the flooding Dining Saloon. They went through a room that was filled with cabinets and shelves, all stacked with dishes, bowls and cutlery. And at that moment, the ship's bow settled further into the sea, sloping the floor further as her stern rose out of the water. This caused the plates to fall from their neat and organized positions and shatter onto the floor in a pile of shards. The sound of china crashing faded into the background the more they ran, heading deeper and deeper into the maze of the Titanic.

Rose felt his hand, his warmth, his strength, and it was everything she wanted. But looking into his eyes as he scanned his surroundings, surveying the current tilt of the room, checking the time on his watch, she saw fear, upset, anger, and it wasn't the Thomas she knew. 4 days ago, Thomas was smiling, telling jokes, normally at Ismay's expense, but he was playful and cheeky. She had never seen him lose his temper or raise a violent hand to anyone. Tonight, she had seen his darker side, but for the right reasons. He had saved her, in so many ways. She was lost, and he found her. She was upset, and he made her smile again. She was hurt, and he eased the pain. She was broken hearted, and he mended it for her. Thomas was everything that Cal could never be. It was thanks to her enraged fiancé that they were here, in the bowels of this dying metal hulk, mortally wounded and stranded in the middle of the Ocean. Rose couldn't imagine marrying Cal... not now... not ever. But here with Thomas, currently fleeing to safety, earlier in his bed, the previous day up on the boat deck strolling hand in hand, down in 3rd class living life to the full with their friends, that was how life should be. Feeling safe, and loved and care free. She could imagine living that way for the rest of her life... and she could imagine it with Thomas and no one else.

The stairs on which they ascended were metal, slightly rusty and poorly painted, hidden away in the labyrinth of crew passages. They were nothing compared to the ornate elegance of The Grand Staircase. They were simply used by the ship's crew for getting from A to B without being seen by the snobs of 1st class. Thomas had thought of everything when he designed this ship... the only problem being that no one thought the "unsinkable" would ever sink. The stairs spiralled upwards for what seemed a lifetime, and although ascending them was tiring, and increasingly difficult with the angle of the ship, they were a sure and certain escape from the flooding below. Thomas looked at Thomas' coat. The once grey garment was now black with the amount of water that had soaked into it. The very water that was bringing his ship down and eating away at him inside, killing him slowly... killing him... it would kill him. The water was freezing, and there might not be any lifeboats left. Rose would be lucky to get onto a lifeboat herself, and with the command being women and children only, how could Thomas get to safety now? She couldn't lose him. Not now. She had only just found him.

Thomas gripped her hand tighter than ever as they got to the door at the top of the stairs. All was silent. The only sound was of metal being pushed to its limit, echoing from every corner of the ship, but apart from that, there was nothing. However, that all changed when Thomas slowly began to open the door, and within seconds, their ears were welcomed with the sound of deafening screams and shouts. Thomas stepped out onto the deck, followed closely by Rose, and looked around. They were up on top of the lookout deck, the raised section between the 2nd and 3rd funnel, and beside them, a large ventilator was billowing hissing steam out from the extinguished boilers far below. Thomas, still holding onto Rose, crossed the deck, through the warm steam, which was a welcome change from the bitter cold night air, and looked down onto the boat deck. Rose looked above her, and apart from the tall tilting funnel, she saw nothing but an expanse of blackness and stars. It was still so beautiful, even now, as the Gods looked down at the disappearing ship and the hundreds of screaming souls still on board.

Grabbing onto the railing in front of him, Thomas began to climb it, jumped over onto the other side and dropped down onto the floor of the boat deck below. He looked up at Rose, who was already beginning to climb the railing, her long red hair wet, sticking to her face and shoulders, almost frozen to ice in this freezing cold, and her dress of layers clinging to her bare body in its current condition of being completely soaked.

He held out his arms like a father about to catch his daughter when she jumped from the climbing frame and shouted, "I've got you Rose, don't worry."

She hesitated slightly, and then when she felt the railing (and therefore the ship) shift itself from its already tilted position she jumped, straight into Thomas' strong arms. Her feet landed on the deck, and the uneven angle of the ground meant that it took a moment to gather herself and regain her footing. Thomas stood her up and held her close as a group of people barged past them, shouting in a foreign language, pointing towards the stern with shaking hands. Rose lay her head against his chest and felt his heart beat, watching her breath appear in front of her in a small cloud of mist. Thomas inspected the davits at the side of the ship. All of them were swung out and empty. No lifeboats were on this side of the ship, and there was no time to run all the way round the to opposite side and search for a lifeboat. It was now about 2:07am, and at that moment, finding a lifeboat that wasn't a collapsible was impossible. Thomas could see one out in the ocean. Just a grey rectangular blur in the darkness of the surrounding sea, and it was probably the last boat to have been lowered, but it was Roses' one way ticket off of this nightmare. Looking up the length of the ship and seeing masses of people rushing in that general direction, gathering like a mob during a riot, Thomas saw what the abandoned passengers were doing. But he would not allow Rose to sit at the stern and wait it out. He would not let his beautiful girl get lost amidst the panic and confusion until the ship sank from under her. If this girl ended up in the vast and endless ocean, cold and alone and slowly dying, then Thomas would be happy to die, for nothing would be worth living for, knowing that he allowed her to perish. And then he looked down the ship, past the advancing passengers. He couldn't see what was happening, but there was just as much activity by the bridge. Grabbing Rose by the hand once again, he began to charge down the deck, towards her sinking forward section, pushing past people as he went.

"Thomas, where are you going?" Rose asked him, confused, looking behind her at the crowds who were heading in the opposite direction.

"I don't quite know yet. I'm hoping I'll find it once I get there."

All of a sudden, through the sounds of the terrified crowds, there were gunshots, coming from the bridge. The air fell silent for a second as people took in what they had just heard. Thomas guessed that it had to be one of his capable officer's... either that or Jack was back for round 3.

Now he knew where he was going. "They're starting to fall apart, damn it! Whatever happened to the Captain's order of keeping calm and controlled?" he spoke worriedly, gradually building up to a held in anger.

"Thomas... things are beyond calm and controlled." Rose said quietly, watching his eager eyes scanning the bridge. All either of them could see were crowds, rushing around hurriedly. And then, he saw what he had hoped to see, and it made his cold heart warm slightly.

"Come Rose, we don't have much time." and they were off like a shot, heading to the officers quarters which was offering the last possible way of escaping the wreck safely.

Six oars, six long wooden paddles, propped up against the roof of the officers quarters, and a collapsible lifeboat waiting patiently at the edge of the roof, a group of men about to ease the canvas structure down the oars and onto the boat deck... the boat deck itself, stained with blood.

Tommy Ryan lay on the ground, shot to death with a single bullet to the chest. Fabrizio cradled him, screaming hysterically up into the sky, "Bastardo! Why? You bastardo!" The blood trickled down the deck, following the slope of the planks, collecting at the bridge in a pool of shining red. The officers around the sorrowful scene continued to work hurriedly, seemingly unaffected by the murder, but their eyes secretly watched Officer Murdoch judgementally. He could sense their gazes, and he felt he deserved it. He never meant to shoot that poor Irish boy. He didn't want to. But the crowd surged forward, and he thought they were going to knock over the oars, and the gun was there in his hand, it was just there... and now there was a corpse on the deck... he wasn't going to make it out of this alive... he could feel it in his bones. He had been on the sea long enough to know when your time was up. Captain Smith had resigned himself to this fact long ago, locking himself in the wheelhouse, left alone to go down with his ship. Murdoch's gloved hand came up to his head, holding the gun.

"No Will!" his friend and fellow colleague shouted out.

_BANG! . . . _it was too late. His lifeless body dropped backwards and fell into the ocean. However, with the bow now almost fully submerged, the waterline was up to the saloon windows of B-Deck, so the body's plummet wasn't even seconds long. If it was 2 hours before, the fall would have taken much longer. The menacing glow of the greenish water was rushing through the windows now, flooding the promenade deck, weighing the forward section of the Titanic down even further, and quicker now. The crowds on deck could feel themselves moving downwards, the deck angling steeper and steeper downwards into the sea.

"Get those oars in place! Make sure they're steady!" An older officer shouted through the noise.

Two younger gentleman, one of whom had only been a ship officer for several months, and another who was a 3rd class passenger, lucky enough to have escaped before the gates were locked, both checked the oars, balancing them carefully. "Oars are ready, Sir!"

"Right, on my count, lads! Start pushing her down, carefully!" he signalled to the men on the roof, who listened intently to their orders. These collapsible boats were now the only device able to rescue passengers from the ship, now that the wooden lifeboats had been lowered to safety from each of the davits.

"Sir! Sir!"

"What is it, James?"

the young officer left the oars, backing away from them slowly, ready to catch one of them if they fell, but they never. He left his position, ran over to the older officer in charge and asked, "This collapsible boat... it can't be lowered off of the ship from the davits... so how will it get off of the ship?"

"Do they not teach this to you new recruits any more?" He replied, almost shocked that he even had to explain this.

James shook his head. The older officer sighed, lowered his gaze, unable to look him in the eyes, so instead he turned his attention to the lifeboat as it was carefully rocked back and forth on the roof. "Once it's down from there and on the boat deck, we'll fill her up with passengers, and as for getting her off of the ship... the rising tide will do that for us." and then he sped off, ready to help with the duties he had to perform.

James was stunned. It was now that he fully understood the extent of what was happening. They were now relying on the ocean to save them... the ocean being the thing that was trying to kill them in the first place. Just then, as James turned around, the lifeboat slid down the oars slightly, snapping one of them, knocking over several others, and the structure came hurtling down onto the deck with a crash, landing upside down, sending several men flying as it almost crushed them. The lifeboat was down at least, but not the way they had hoped.

Thomas arrived at that moment, witnessing the boat crashing onto the ground, a snapping sound echoing through the air. Rose flinched, fearing that it had hit one of the men and shut her eyes instinctively. Thomas however had no time to shut his eyes. Shutting his eyes at a time like this would be like turning your back to the death of your child, or pretending not to notice your house is on fire. Thomas' life was falling apart all around him. Ignoring it was not an option. Stopping it was no longer possible. Preventing it... well, it was too late now. But helping those that were also trapped in this nightmare... that was a logical decision, which the Master Shipbuilder Mr Andrews came to as soon as he saw his own officers faltering.

"Need a hand gentleman?" Thomas shouted firmly as he walked towards the scene of disarray, trying to seem composed, bringing Rose with him, a splintered oar at his feet and a young man scrambling to his own.

The elder officer in charge swung his head round in shock, stunned to see Thomas here and now, a midst the tragedy itself. "Mr Andrews?"

"That is my name, so let's not wear it out just yet, I still have a short while here on this God given Earth." he laughed lightly, trying not to burst into tears. He let go of Roses' hand and spoke softly, saying, "My darling, stand here and wait patiently, if you can." His trademark wink returned. "I know how impatient you can be. We need to flip this lump of a boat over and then get you inside it." With a tender and caring hand, he moved her hair away from her face and brushed it behind her intently listening ears. "Won't be a minute." a kiss, and then he was gone.

And when he left, helping the other men and one large built 3rd class woman to turn the lifeboat, she continued to listen, but she could no longer hear his voice, and with no sense of reason speaking to her, no calming hand to touch her, no supportive eyes to look into hers, she let her concentration wonder, and instead her attention was drawn to the screaming and panicking crowds rushing around behind her, trying to find their loved one in the middle of the hysteria, and trying to find a safe place to wait out the disaster. A crowd had formed in the background, eagerly waiting to ambush this collapsible boat once it was ready. Rose watched their eyes, like hungry dogs surrounding a carcus. She saw them, and she almost feared them. They looked crazed and lost. But then again, wouldn't anyone turn that way after being abandoned aboard a sinking ship, simply left to fight for survival?

Thomas walked past two men on the ground, one of them sobbing, the other one lifeless... and drenched in blood. The tanned man who was crying and rocking the body back and forth began to unfasten the dead man's lifebelt and pull it off of him. No point letting it go to waste. He couldn't stop to console him, but he wished he could. He wished he could go around every single person on this ship and hug them for just a moment. Such a moment would be precious, but so was time, and time was running out. Thomas hurried over to the lifeboat and tried to get his fingers underneath the vessel, but it's wooden rim was too heavy. It was as if it was being held to the boat deck with magnets. He looked to his side and saw a familiar face. He knew that face. And then, the face saw him, and he spoke.

"Hello, Mr Andrews... fancy seeing you here." The handsome lad beamed a smile, which contrasted greatly with the situation around him.

Thomas could hardly muster up the strength to speak. "James?" it came out as a question... he didn't know why... but it did. Perhaps it was his mind trying to say, _WHY THE BLOODY HELL HAVEN'T YOU LEFT THE SHIP YET YOU FOOL? YOU'RE STILL SO YOUNG!_

"Mr Andrews... I'm sorry." James tried again to lift the boat in unison with the rest of the passengers, grunting and moaning as his heavy efforts failed.

"Sorry?... what for, son? You have nothing to be sorry for."

"This ship... The Titanic... I know how much she meant to you." James looked behind him, up at the ship's foremost funnel, and then followed the line of glowing arched windows that was the grand staircase, seeing silhouettes of people still inside, and the ghosts of people outside, searching for an answer to the unanswerable question on everyone's lips . . . how could this be happening?

Hearing the word, "meant" really put this into perspective for Thomas. Past tense. The ship was going to vanish... Thomas was more than likely going to die... nothing lasts forever though... but must all good things come to an end? "James... I'm the one who should be apologising... I'm sorry son." Thomas' voice began to tremble, his eyes closing, and a tear escaping. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen."

Just then, the ship's band, lead by Wallace Hartley, who had all played joyful and uplifting songs throughout the entire night, began to play a more sombre tune. The echoing strings from every instrument rose into the air, and like spirits, they began to sore among the crowds, each bowed string and graceful note kissing the ears of all who heard it, quietly whispering, "All will be fine my sister's and brother's. He is waiting for us. He delivered us, and now we shall be delivered unto Him. It shall be over soon. It shall all be over soon. I promise." And with that message, every scream and shout slowly became a prayer and a voice. A chorus of 1500, all singing the same sorrowful hymn, filling the bitter night air with a sense of warmth. The spirits of the strings ascended from the sinking boat deck and travelled upwards, higher and higher still, passing the steam of the ship's funnels, dancing among the stars, and then swooped down softly, skimming the ocean's calm but cruel surface with their loving fingertips, before passing on a sorry story to those in the 20 lifeboats, a story that started, "There once was a ship." and ended with, "The ship that once was."

Every ear heard it. Every voice sang it. "Nearer My God to Thee." Every soul accepted it... accepted an all too certain fate.

Suddenly, at that precise moment, as Rose watched Thomas and the young officer conversing, she saw the sight that everyone aboard had dreaded all night... The beginning of the end.

The boat deck shuddered and wobbled to the side slightly, but the feeling was scarily noticeable. Everyone looked around and steadied themselves, and then, all at once, the wall at the very forward section of the bridge, which overlooked onto the well deck, became veiled with a waterfall of dark ocean water, shimmering as it flowed over the wall and poured down onto the boat deck. With the wall itself now level with the sea, the entire ocean came crashing down on the deck now, a terrible tide thundering over the wall and submerging it entirely as the bridge of the ship descended beneath the waves. The men and women, and even children, that surrounded the upturned lifeboat scattered out of the way as the sea advanced towards them like a menacing army, taking no prisoners and showing no mercy. There was no stopping it now. The flooding within the metal beast had weighed her down so much that her highest deck was finally disappearing. The water came surging across the floor and hit Rose, knocking her off of her feet as she watched on in abject terror, unable to move out of fear.

Thomas held onto the bottom of the lifeboat and grabbed James by the arm, holding him protectively as the ocean pounded and surrounded them. He looked over to spot Rose, but he couldn't see her. All he could see were the elegant Grand Staircase windows, half submerged by the ocean, illuminating it with a ghastly green glow. The water pushed against him, like the Gods of the sea were urging him forward, telling him to go and find Rose. But first, he pushed James upwards, helping him on top of the lifeboat. James clambered onto the structure, prompting many others around to do the same. Happy in the knowledge that James was safe for the time being, he let go of the boat, and the forceful tide swept him away like a frog in a sewer. He flew past the boat, almost hitting off of a davit as he went. He reached what was almost dry footing, and grabbing onto the door of the Officers Quarters, he stopped himself from being swept any further by the cruel and powerful current. The water was at his knees, but he felt it rising still as the deck lowered further. He looked around, panicking, hoping to see a flash of red hair more than anything.

"Rose? Rose? ROSE?" He screamed out her name, trying to compete with the roar of the crashing waves and hellish cries for help. These people were so afraid and so alone, left on this ship to die. They ran past him, ignoring him, set on finding safety and escaping the flood. Mr Andrews was no longer the well respected and highly regarded ship-builder he once was. Thomas was just another passenger on another ship wreck. He was just another statistic on a list of the damned... this thought alone made him shudder, but with a deep sigh and blessing himself quickly, he accepted it almost willingly.

Rose was inside the Grand Staircase, her ears thumping with pain and her eyes sore. The water was so cold. Her entire body was aching and shivering. She stood in the doorway, hearing the sound of the advancing ocean right outside the door. But then, an odd thing happened. She heard the sound of the ocean _inside._ Screaming and footsteps echoed from the landing below, and turning around to inspect downstairs, next to the bronze cherub, she saw splashing blue waves and white foam cascading across the floor, boiling up furiously from underneath the oak and marble stairs. Men in suits and women in tight dresses struggled to escape the flooding. One woman carrying a suitcase who was almost at the top of the steps slipped on her wet coat and fell backwards, tumbling down the stairs and disappearing into the rising waves below, lapping up the steps one by one. The cherub stood high up on his oak stand, holding his torch above him, as if hoping it wouldn't be extinguished by the sea, but soon, the water was surrounding him too. It was the Armageddon of elegance. Rose couldn't stand in the room and watch the most beautiful place she had ever seen vanish into nothing. The lights flickered off and on again, dimming slightly, and with that she had departed the scene, exiting out of the door and instantly walked into ankle high water. Looking down the deck she saw Thomas, stumbling towards her.

"Thomas! What do we do?" She grabbed his hands and felt him shivering as much as she was. "She's going fast, there's no way we can get off safely now." She watched people wade through the water and to what they thought was safety, truth be told, no where on the ship was safe any more. Her eyes began to water, emotion rising up inside her like the ocean around them. "Thomas... I don't want to die."

She didn't know if that seemed like a selfish thing to say, but after wanting to commit suicide only days before, something made her want to keep going now... looking into his deep brown eyes made life seem worth living. Thomas put his hand in hers, clasping their fingers together tightly, not daring to let go of one another. "You are NOT going to die, sweetheart. If saving you is the last thing I ever do, then I will die a happy man."

And before Rose could stop him, he was dragging them both back into the oncoming force of ocean water. It seemed like a ludicrous decision, but she trusted him. The wheelhouse was nearly gone, only a section of her roof visible above the water. The more they walked down the sloping boat deck, the deeper the water became. Rose bit her lip in agony as the feeling of a thousand icy knives stabbed her all over her body. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't think. At least not about anything but that pain. That, and the feeling of Thomas' hand in hers. That's what kept her going. The thought of that feeling in the morning, when they would both wake up to a new day and hold each other comfortingly, recovering slowly into a new life together... that was all she wanted. But first, they had to get through tonight.

Thomas could see the overturned lifeboat now, just ahead of them. His feet could hardly touch the ground now as he paddled with one arm towards the populated island in the middle of the glowing green ocean. The lifeboat had been washed off of the floor entirely and was floating on top of the water, people sitting on top of it nervously, unsure of how this unusual method of transport would serve them through the night. Would it capsize? Would it also sink? Would it reach the rescue ship in its current state? Hands reached out of the crowd of fearful faces, helping others up onto the drifting shred of hope and possible salvation.

Thomas was so close to it now. He kept moving his arms and legs rhythmically, pulling his girl along behind him. He was tired, and Rose could sense it, but they were nearly there. No point giving up now. "Just a little bit further Rose, I'm sure they can see us."

Rose was about to reply, but she had no strength for it now, and the only words she could think of were too simple yet more than enough... "_Thank God!"_

Thomas' suspicion was right, they did see the couple in the water, and their voices rang out like angels in the dark. "C'mon lads! There's a Lady over here!"

Thomas threw his arms over the lifeboat and banged upon it with his hand, treating it like a door, gaining the attention of those aboard. His thuds continued as a sea of arms dragged Rose out of the water, covering her with a blanket and surrounding her protectively. Rose saw Thomas. She saw his handsome face, resting on the overturned boat. She felt the vibrations of his hand, tapping the boat, gradually growing weaker and weaker. His tightly clenched fist became a relaxed palm, stroking the boat, almost apologetically. Rose watched his head turn to the side as he took in the sight of the ship's foremost funnel, its base settling into the water, the ocean seeping into the vents hissing and boiling as steam rose up from the foaming waves, which continued to drag the deck under. He watched this sight from a seemingly safe distance, and Rose watched him in her sideways world as she lay down, seeing him past the ankles and arms of those on top of this boat with her. Everyone seemed blurred. She saw the ship, but her vision became clouded, and she saw only a blur of fading lights, angling themselves more and more, the Titanic's stern rising higher into the air. Her ears could no longer hear voices, but faint mumbles and distorted speech from those above her, a woman rubbing her arms and back roughly, trying to warm her up. But even then, this sensation of being rubbed warm and dry ceased to exist, and her body was all at once numb. The feeling of the uncomfortable boat beneath her was no longer apparent, as her body felt as if it were floating. She could feel nothing as she floated on this cloud of blurred reality and inaudible life... but the one thing she could feel was under her cheek... the one thing which kept her eyes open was the feeling of Thomas tapping the boat. That weak vibration under her face, it meant life. It meant movement. It meant he was there. It meant that he was okay. She shut her eyes. She was at peace.

Thomas pulled himself over to Rose, watching her laying there, so still, so tired, so white and fragile, like a china doll that had been lost at sea. He stroked her face, feeling the slight warmth of her soft cheek. She was exhausted, and he couldn't deny the fact that it was all his fault. As he took in the sight of her, she began to open her eyes.

"Thomas?" she slowly put a hand on his, moving shakily, like an old woman.

He looked into her icy eyes, fighting the urge to close and stay closed... for an hour... for the rest of the night... for God only knows how long. "I'm sorry that I didn't build you a stronger ship, young Rose."

A slender finger placed itself over Thomas' perfect lips, and all at once, he was silenced. Rose removed her finger and shook her head. "This is not your fault... you could not have predicted this, no one could have."

"But I could have prevented it, surely."

"Prevent what? The "unsinkable" from sinking? Thomas... you always aim so high, and if you don't reach your expectations then you put yourself down... but is it you or your father that you're trying to please... because if your father could see you now-"

Thomas scoffed and cut her off. "If he s-saw me floating here in the ocean, the wreck of my creation foundering b-behind me... right now, I'm glad he's not here... I can't feel his judgemental stare scorching the back of my head... instead I can feel all of theirs." He turned his head and looked at the deck of the ship, only meters away, slipping further under the surface of the glowing ocean as the Atlantic swallowed her whole. Her decks were littered with people, all scattered over the place, running around frantically like worker ants when their habitat is thrown into a mortal turmoil of unreal proportions.

Rose put a hand on his cheek and turned his face away from the sight and forced him to look at her. "If he saw you doing your best to save who you possibly could, he wouldn't care about the stupid old lump of metal... he would care about his son's safety, and he would be SO proud that you built such beauty... at least the world got to see her.." As she said this, the dying ship moaned out in pain, her metal screeching in agony.

"I'm n-not so sure... But i'd rather die with the knowledge that you're alright than live with the guilt of their deaths." Thomas buckled over slightly, and he was clearly hurting. He kept wincing and gripping Roses' hand, trying to ignore the pain that the water was sending through his body.

"Thomas... get out of the water."

"Rose, I want you to listen to these officers, they know what they're doing."

"I'm not go-"

He cut her off. "The b-boat is a bit... well, upside down, but it should still do the job it n-needs to do." He surveyed the situation, still fulfilling his duties even now.

"Thomas, get on the boat." she ordered him, her voice firm, her head lifting with the sudden realization of her man's words.

"If you s-see ANY sort of light on the horizon, especially if it's green, then you tell someone... or maybe you should sleep... yes, sleep... you need to rest, Rose. And you won't have m-me on there rolling around in my sleep like I do. That's the last thing you need." A nervous laugh escaped his shivering lips.

Instantly, Rose shot up, the fastest she had moved all night, and she grabbed him by the face, pulling him close to hers. "I'm not going without you, Thomas... I can't live without you."

Putting his hands over hers, stroking her affectionately, he moved them away and whispered, "Yes you can, and you know you can... you're more likely to die if you're with me." He tried to sound like he was joking, but to him, it was as true as the spectacle over his shoulder, the ship's lights beginning to fade duller and duller with each fleeting moment. "I don't trust myself Rose. These passengars put their trust in me and look what has happened." His hands had indeed built the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history... but his hands had in effect killed 1500 innocent people. And with that, he kissed her cold fingers and let them go, but Rose wasn't giving up that easily, and desperately she held onto his hands.

"Thomas... I'm not letting go. I'll never let go."

"Rose, please... you h-have to."

Her eyes began to water and as soon as the tears began to fall, she couldn't control her crying. "You're the best thing that's ever happened to me... How can I just allow myself to let you die?"

Pointing behind his back at the ship he said calmly, "All good things come to an end, young Rose... I've learned that the hard way... but you have to believe me when I say that you... you are the single most perfect thing I have ever seen in my life, and I have been honoured, absolutely honoured to say you were mine... even if it was just for the night." He used a strong hand to wipe away her streaming tears, and sorting her hair he whispered, "You have your entire life ahead of you, and I've already lived mine... it's time to forget about the past and move into your future."

"What about the present? What about us?" her face was shaking, and the tears she cried could sink a ship alone.

"Rose, please don't make this any harder than it already is."

"What about the rest of your life... You and I could have lived an amazing life together... we could have had so many adventures."

Suddenly, the lights flickered and began to dim entirely. Thomas leaned forward, the boat moved slightly in the water, and with a weak body but an ever burning passion, he kissed Rose long and hard. She threw her arms around him and stroked his hair, smelling the lavender of his overcoat, taking in the broadness of his shoulders, the thickness of his arms, the light coating of fur on the back of his neck, his tickling stubble and his smooth lips, with that expertly passionate embrace of their tongues that she had grown to love. And then he pulled away, resting his head on her shoulder one last time, whispering softly, "To die will be an awfully big adventure."

With that, he pushed off the boat and began swimming back to the vanishing ship with all his might.

"I love you, Thomas!" Rose knew she couldn't stop him, but there was no point holding back how she felt.

He slowed down and looked back at the girl, lost and alone on that boat, surrounded by sorrowful faces. He didn't want to leave her, but he had to. Why should he live? What right did he have? He challenged the Gods with the RMS Titanic, and the Gods fought back... but the Gods had thrown the most beautiful obstacle in his way during this voyage, and he had fallen head over heels when he reached the hurdle. "I thought once Emilia had died that I could never feel the same way for someone ever again... You proved me wrong... You'll never know how much I love you Rose DeWitt Bukater." and to save any further heartache he began swimming again, leaving her behind.

"Then show me Thomas... please, please! Don't leave me! Please Thomas... Thomas!" She screamed out, hurting her voice, but her cries didn't stop him. He kept going, kept swimming, ignoring the pain in his legs, the pain in his head... the pain in his heart.

_SNAP! SPLASH! _A white spray of water raced past Thomas. And then another behind him, and another next to that. The stay cables along the top of the first funnel began to split, lashing back like steel whips into the water below. A groaning and bending of metal and an eruption of smoke and steam, and all at once the forward funnel began to lean over dangerously, looming over the swimmers in the water, Thomas being one of them.

"Mr Andrews! MR ANDREWS!" An officer who was also on the boat shouted out at the top of his lungs, closing his eyes in horror as the funnel came thundering down like a domino, and within seconds the metallic beast crashed into the ocean, creating a tidal wave of displaced water which came surging from beneath it in a white wall of force. The wave raced along the surface of the ocean and rocked the overturned boat, sending people flying off of it who weren't on securely. Rose had heard the creaking metal and looked up just as the wave washed over her. She hugged the boat in terror, screaming out one word over and over. "Thomas! Thomas!"

As the ocean settled again and the lifeboat steadied itself, the funnel bobbed above the surface for a minute and then disappeared, hissing loudly and making the water boil up around it as it went down. Pools of red and lifeless bodies littered this section of the water, the massive structure proving too much for their fragile bones. On the surface of the Ocean, a smashed pocket watch drifted along slowly, like a lilly-pad on a mill pond. The gold hands of the device had been stopped in their tracks, frozen in history at exactly seventeen minutes past two.

Rose tried to sit up, but the boat tipped to the side in the choppy waves so she dropped down again. Just then, the hole where the funnel once stood began to dip beneath the water, and the enormous wound in the ship allowed tons of ocean water to pour down into the bowels of the wreck. At this moment, the sinking increased in speed drastically and the final plunge began. The echoing sound of furniture rolling across tilted cabins, dishes smashing as they slid off of their sloped shelves, and 1500 people screaming out in terror as they gathered at the stern like bees in a hive. They all stood on her stern, holding onto anything bolted down, stopping themselves from tumbling down the ship as her propellers rose out of the water. And then, after her blazing portholes and saloon lights flickered twice, their was nothing but the dark. The entire ocean, the passengers aboard the Titanic, the 20 lifeboats surrounding her, everything was plunged into a perpetual blackness.

After that, Rose had to cover her ears, for she could hear nothing but hell and carnage. After the lights had gone out, there was the sound of groaning metal which had been pushed to it's Earthly limit, and so began tearing under the immense stress, her wooden skeleton splitting apart. The ship was nothing but a silhouette against the starry night sky, but from what Rose could see, the Titanic was breaking apart. As her stern detached and fell back level from her high angled position, the roar from those left on board went up like fans at a baseball game when there's a home-run. Rose had to shut her eyes. Hearing their cries and seeing the ship's death throws... it only made her think of the man that had seen this ship from birth to death... the man she had let go...

She couldn't cry any more. Whether she had run out of tears or they had turned to ice in the bitter cold, she did not know. Instead she just thought of the life she had lived with Thomas over these past few days, and the life she would have to live without him once this boat reached salvation. What was the point of carrying on without your life support? Why shouldn't she just switch off now? She was weak and tired and drained of all energy and sense of fight. She wanted to shut her eyes for good and sleep, but if she slept, she feared she may not wake up. Rolling over onto her back, looking up to the glittering night sky, she saw a silver line shoot across her point of concentration. A shooting star? She saw it, and instantly she heard Thomas' voice in her mind, speaking in that sultry Irish tone that she adored.

"You know, my Father used to tell me that every time you saw one, it was a soul going to heaven."

Rose suspected that if this was true, she was bound to see many more shooting stars before morning came.

**April 15th 1912 – 02:20am**

At this precise moment, the vertical stern of the Titanic plunged downwards, being swallowed up entirely by the furious sea, bubbling and boiling around her base, pulling her down with hundreds still clinging on for dear life. Air escaped her un-flooded passageways and rooms, causing the surrounding ocean filled with bodies and debris to erupt violently. Everyone in the lifeboats could hear it, the screeching of her metal and the commotion in the water... and then, they heard nothing. There was an eerie silence... and then the heartbreaking chorus of 1500 dying souls began. An endless echo of screaming, crying, shouting, begging and praying.

Rose covered her ears. Somewhere out there was her one true love, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Ruth covered her ears. Somewhere out there was her one and only daughter, and there was nothing she could do about it.


	23. Chapter 23

**April 15th 1912 – 02:30**

After the stern of the Titanic was dragged down by the ice cold claws of the ocean, the explosive waves that had sucked her under pushed the upside-down raft away, freeing her from the wrath of the turbulent waters. It was dark... no, not dark... pitch black... not even that... it was indescribable.

Small pinholes of light twinkled high above, like sympathising eyes watching the countless bodies drifting in the middle of the Atlantic, all of them thrashing around attempting to stay afloat, fighting over debris in the water to cling onto, gasping for air, screaming for help, begging for life. But these sympathising eyes high above could do nothing but watch on helplessly. God was asleep at this time in the morning, so he could not hear their prayers... but the ones who were awake, the ones who were listening to the 1500 strong chorus of slowly and agonizingly dying voices... they could do something... they _could... _but they didn't... not yet anyway.

"Let the noise die down a bit." said one of the officers in a far off lifeboat, but near enough for his passengers to have to cover their ears and turn their backs to the throng. "Once it's quieter we'll go back. They'll swamp the boats otherwise... we had to row away from the suction... but now she's gone... she's gone."

Molly and Ruth held each other desperately, Ruth clasping her hands tight over her ears and resting her head on Molly's fur coat, whilst Molly herself looked around at the other passengers and officers angrily. No one was doing anything. She had already confronted the officer in charge of this boat, but she had been threatened that her space would happily be freed up for survivors... meaning she would be thrown overboard. That soon shut her up, but her rage was quietly boiling up inside. They were closing their eyes to the tragedy that was all around them. She doubted they would be able to avoid the tragedy as easily when it was on the front page of every newspaper. To her, ignoring it was practically murder.

Rose thought that closing her eyes would be a bad thing. If she shut her eyes, would she open them again? Several people around her had shut their eyes, and already their stiff corpses had been softly nudged down the sloped sides of the overturned boat, easing them into the water, freeing up more room for the ones who were still breathing. This scared her. The fact that someone who was talking to her only moments before had now been discarded of like litter. She hadn't taken in their words... she regretted this now, since it was their last words. It wasn't her fault thought. She could only think of Thomas' words... his last words... they took up all the space in her mind. Everything else was irrelevant.

Shutting her eyes seemed frightening... However, the only way to wake up from a nightmare is to open your eyes and come back to reality. Perhaps Rose had fallen asleep in Thomas' bed after they had cemented their feelings for one another? Had this terrible tragedy simply been a disastrous dream?

Close her eyes... that's all she had to do... and then she could open them again and she would be in his arms. Those big, strong, warm, protective arms that had become her rock. She closed her eyes, briefly, the darkness under her eyelids just as dark as the black morning... okay, that was long enough. Opening her eyes again she saw reality... and the reality was that she was on a boat in the middle of the vast and endless ocean, lost and alone, unable to hold on to her rock... the rock that kept her steady and balanced. She had let go... and there was no going back now.

But he was so certain, so sure, so positive that his fate would be death... he had said all night that he wouldn't leave the ship... he said he didn't deserve to leave the ship alive. He was so close to being rescued. He could have climbed up onto the boat and held Rose close to his beating heart until the sun came up over the ocean. There was more than enough room for him... but he refused. She missed him so much, and she hadn't felt this sense of loss since her farther had passed. She felt sick, but now sea-sick, the thought of his body being out there somewhere... it was too much to cope with. She was distraught and drained and lost... but she was angry. He had just left her behind. He wanted her to be safe, but in doing so he had abandoned her. He knew how she felt, and he still broke her heart by leaving her, forcing her to let him go and watch him swim off into her past and towards his doom... she shouldn't be feeling angry with him, but there was a certain anger rising up inside of her... and the more she thought about it, the more she assumed that she was actually mad at herself. Mad for assuming that he would see the night through, even though his words through out the whole night had hinted to the conclusion that he wouldn't make it out alive. He knew and accepted this, and Rose had ignored it... right until the very end... the very end of the sinking, the end of the light, the end of his life... but now she couldn't be in denial, because it had happened, and it was real, and there was nothing she could do. . . Thomas was... he was... he was out there... but what if he was still alive? There were still voices screaming... much less now... it had gradually grew quieter and quieter as more shooting stars soared across the sky, but there were still survivors. She could hear them. What if Thomas was one of them?

She pushed herself up slowly, almost collapsing again as she felt how weak her arms were. They shook under the weight of her numb body. Her tired eyes looked out to sea de, seeing nothing but a black expanse of water that stretched onwards, touching the glowing blue skyline, and then the darkness continued upwards into the sky, into the stars, into space, into heaven. The sea went on for as far as the eye could see. The sense of abandonment and isolation was overwhelming. Looking up at the sky she was amazed at how many stars she could see. In the city the sky was polluted by bright lights and and smoking chimneys. But out here, in the middle of the Ocean, the only pollution was the shipwreck debris and the floating corpses with their white faces, frozen in the expression of their final moments, be it a scream or a prayer. It was beautiful... but when the sun came up, it would be quite different. The horrors of the sinking would finally be exposed.

She could hear only a handful of voices now compared to the roar that echoed across the water only 10 minutes before. She opened her mouth, a cloud of coldness appearing before her and then vanishing, re-appearing with each breath she took. She put her teeth together, feeling them chattering as she began to pronounce the letter 'T' . . . before she knew it, she had dropped down again, exhaustion finally taking its toll on her. It was so cold... so lonely... so dark... and then there was nothing. She was out like a light, dead to the world. The officer on top of, and in charge of, this overturned lifeboat felt her pulse. It was weak, but it was there. Thomas Andrews had brought this girl onto the boat with his own two hands, so she was clearly worth saving... It was just too bad that Thomas didn't think that about himself.

Ruth had almost fallen asleep. She had stayed awake all night, keeping her fearful gaze transfixed upon that tilting island of lights, an island on which her daughter had been stranded. Watching the sinking didn't help matters, it only hurt her eyes, disturbed her brain, tugged at her soul and broke her heart. However, if she looked away then she would feel as if she wasn't keeping an eye on Rose. No, not keeping an eye on her. That was Lovejoy's job... she would feel as if she had deserted her daughter completely. She already felt guilty enough that her 17 year old girl had gone down with that ship, or jumped off as Ruth had witnessed many people do... unless she was on a lifeboat... Ruth hoped to God that she was safe. She felt utterly helpless sitting here crying into Molly's comforting hug. She had stopped crying a while ago, realizing that her sobs seemed pointless and insignificant in comparison to the dying cries in the distance. If she had the strength to row this boat directly into the section of sea where the ship had submerged, then she would, and she would save every person she saw whilst searching for Rose. Planning her husband's funeral had been hard enough, even though they had had their differences towards the end of the marriage. How would she cope planning her baby's funeral? No parent should out live their child. It's not natural... how would she cope with the funeral? How would she cope with life? Life... it seemed like such a bleak word now. There was no excitement or hope that came with that word... life... She was in a drowning debt, and their seemed to be no surfacing from it... Caledon was her life raft, keeping her afloat amidst the money troubles... but now, whether her daughter was dead or alive, Cal was out of the picture for good. He was an arrogant bastard who drank himself into a coma when his wife-to-be was missing. How could she allow her daughter to marry a man like that? She couldn't, not any more. He knew that Ruth needed him to survive, and he took great pleasure in reminding her... did Caledon survive? It didn't matter... from this day on, Ruth DeWitt Bukater silently promised herself that she and her daughter would get by themselves... she wouldn't become a seamstress, that was beneath her. However, Aunt Violet would surely take Ruth and Rose in and care for them until they could walk on their own two feet again, although the thought of such dependency made Ruth feel as sick as the sea did... but first on Ruth's agenda was finding her daughter. She had to find Rose. She had to find her baby.

**April 15th 1912 – 05:25am**

Although her eyes were shut, there was something urging her to open them. A light. A bright light. It shone through her eyelids and made her awake and aware all of a sudden. She opened her eyes at once, and greeting them was the sun. It was finally day. The sky was a mixed paint palette of Godly proportions, with shades of orange, pink, purple and yellow. The golden ball of the sun was rearing its warm head above the surface of the Ocean, turning the horizon into an explosion of light which grew and spread out further the more the sun rose. She rolled over onto her side carefully, trying not to upset the steady rhythm that the boat had adopted, the blue waves still calm as they helped the survivors move forward into a new day.

It was still freezing, but the sight of the morning sun brought with it a not so literal warmth, but more of a spiritual cleansing. Pushing herself up onto her elbows she looked around the overturned raft. Last night when Thomas left Rose here, there were at least 30 people clinging onto the structure. Now she saw only 10, including herself. The squawking of seagulls overhead made Rose glance upwards, watching the birds soar and glide, so care free and cheerfully, swooping down and flapping their wings above the water. The clothes she wore were still drenched, but like frozen meat they had thawed over night and weren't as stiff and rigid as they had previously been. The fine layer of frost beneath her nostrils and through her hair was still prominent, but lessened by the gentle kiss of the sun. Looking at the tartan blanket which shrouded her, she spotted another, and another, until she realized that she had several tartan blankets wrapped around her. She looked at the officer who was moving an oar steadily, standing strong, a mere shadow against the bright morning sky, but a shadow that would stretch across all of history from this day on.

"Thank you." She managed to murmur weakly after several attempts to move her numb lips.

The officer turned and smiled softly. "What for Miss?"

She lifted the blankets slightly and gestured to them. He nodded and his smile vanished somewhat. "Well.. it's not as if _they_ needed them any more." He continued to row.

Rose, after a brief moment, understood what he meant, and instantly, realizing that she was under the blankets of corpses, she threw them aside, quietly horrified... but now that she thought about it, the water that had drenched her last night, and was still on her, had claimed countless lives... no matter what she wore or how many baths she took after today, she would always be covered in death... death would follow her like a curse... 1500 deaths... Thomas' death... she now knew what he meant when he said he would feel guilty for living... she was feeling it herself.

Looking over her shoulder she stared out to sea, the sea that she was now level with... at one with... She understood it. It could either be man's greatest gift or his greatest rival. It could bring metallic monsters into a new dawn, or tear apart titans into old memories. It could wash onto the shore a bottle with a message rolled up inside, revealing a thousand truths... or it could take men, woman and children to an early grave, taking with it a thousand secrets and untold stories.

These were thoughts that she only thought. She could never speak about this... not to anyone. It would drive them to madness. It was already having its way with her... she would keep such terrible conjuring's of the mind locked up where they belong, for dwelling on the past only interrupted the present and clouded up the future. She only ever truly opened up to Thomas. She never spoke to her mother about her father, and she never spoke to Cal about... well, anything. From that day on, Rose's heart would become a deep ocean of secrets. The only man who could sail that deep ocean was gone... no one could enter now. She was broken. She was damaged. She was surrounded by faces, and yet alone in the world. She was as cold as the ice that had changed so many lives forever... she was the living dead.

Just then, the officer who was rowing stopped for a moment, pointing out onto the horizon, and other people who were awake started to become active, standing up and following his gaze.

"Is that what I think it is?" He asked excitedly.

And it was... It was a ship! The survivors on the overturned boat shouted out with relief, tears streaming down their face. Others put their head in their hands and sobbed, asking God why their loved ones couldn't have held on for just another hour. Rose stood up, her knees shaking, almost collapsing as she felt her body weight being balanced on tired and weak legs. She put her hand above her eyes to shield them from the intensity of the rising sun, turning the sky into a dance of fire. Her hair lit up from dark red to orange, and her pale skin became yellow as the sun shone over her. And sure enough, on the horizon, sailing perfectly across the shimmering blue waves, attracting the attention of everyone who saw it, there was a ship.

It didn't look any bigger than the Titanic... but that didn't matter... trivial things like that didn't matter any more... size was only size . . . but life was life, and that's the biggest gift we can ever ask for.

She watched the ship turn majestically and make its way towards the lifeboat, turning from a silhouette against the sun into a heroic vessel sent from the Gods. She watched on, thankful, then dropped to her knees and wept like a child who had lost their father. It had been a long time since she cried like this... but it had also been a long time since she had loved like this.


	24. Chapter 24

Seeing the night through to the morning was hard. Mustering up the strength to climb a rope ladder ladder and onto a rescue ship was even harder. But now, as Rose sat on deck with the 1st class upon a wooden bench, she was enduring the most difficult task of all... trying to think of what to tell her mother. Why did she stay on a sinking ship? That would be first on the agenda. But what of Cal? Had he made it out alive? And if so, had he got to Ruth before Rose could. It was a thought too stomach turning to contemplate, for he would surely have twisted to truth into a tragic tale of a perverted old man seducing an engaged young girl. Was it any more twisted than the egotistical man with the bulging wallet seducing a woman in debt with his charm and promises? Rose thought not. And what of the escapade with Jack and the gun? That was all Cal's doing. There was no way she could go back to him now. Rose knew what she would do. She would tell mother everything, and she would believe her, and if Cal tried anything then the capable officers of the S.S. Carpathia would gladly restrain him and keep him in confinement like the animal he is until the New York skyline is in sight. Simple enough... it all seemed very simple. Now that last night's tragedy was out of view and stored in the 700 minds on board the rescue ship, everything seemed much simpler, because there's no harder task than watching a floating palace fall apart and vanish beneath the boiling waves.

Being on a ship again felt odd. The ground beneath her feet was not sloped, and it was bone dry, minus the wet footprints of survivors and the occasional splattering from a seagull above. It wasn't exactly luxury, but it wasn't sinking, and that was good enough for Rose. She kept her tartan blanket round her head securely, making sure her burning red hair was not exposed. She wanted to get to her mother before Cal found his pale faced bride-to-be, so hiding her distinctive hair would help with this. The 1st class around her spoke reverently, peering over the poop deck railing at the 3rd class, of which there was few, and spoke of the nights events as if it were a polo match. They were not all heartless. Many had lost there husbands, sons and brothers. One woman was on the ground, sobbing, crying into the sky that her baby boy was kept on the Titanic for he was considered to be a man... he was only 16. The chances of him still being alive were slim, and they all knew it. All they could do was comfort her and control her cries which rose into the blue sky above, echoed by the gulls who pitied her.

Just then, an officer walked past hurriedly, carrying a clipboard. Rose grabbed his arm and he stopped, instinctively crouching down to see her face to face and asked what was the matter, offering her a cup of tea.

"Tea would be lovely, thank you." she said graciously, before continuing, "But I was going to ask... do you have a list of the names for everyone aboard?"

"Aboard the Carpathia, Miss?"

Rose nodded. "Yes, I was wondering if my friend was on there." she pointed at his clipboard.

"Well I'll be glad to check if you give me their name." He smiled politely and lifted the cork board.

"Bolt... Trudy Bolt. She has been our servant for years now, but she's become like a mother to me." Rose thought of Trudy warmly, and as she spoke the officer looked through the pages before him. There was a silence, and it continue, and Rose looked up at him slowly, waiting for some reassuring words of conformation that she was indeed on the list of survivors.

Eventually, after searching intently, he lowered the board and shook his head solemnly. "No Trudy Bolt on here Miss, I'm afraid."

Rose swallowed the lump in her throat. "Perhaps you haven't asked for her name yet. She is a very pretty women in her late 20s with dark brown hair, and the black maid's uniform with the white apron no doubt." Rose described her, laughing at her noticeable outfit. "She'd wear that uniform to a yacht party if she could. She feels very at home in it."

"Miss... I ask for all the names of the survivors that come from the lifeboats. Not a single one gets past me without giving their name... I'm sorry, but if she was on board I would know."

Roses' hopeful smile dropped and her eyes began to sparkle. The officer noticed this, put a consoling hand on her shoulder and then went on his way... Trudy was dead? Her body was still drifting out their in an expanse of ice and blood like debris? The thought alone made Rose feel sick. She was gone. Nameless. Forgotten. Just another statistic. One face out of 1500, sharing the same horrible reek... but what of Cal? Was he still alive? Was he sailing through the stench that's rising? Or would he bring it home with him inside a wooden casket?

And then there was Thomas... Thomas... Thomas... she kept saying his name in her mind, trying not to forget him. She never wanted to forget. Trudy had no family, and Ruth didn't care for her too much after the argument about a pay rise. Trudy would be forgotten... but Thomas would not. Rose wouldn't allow it.

Ruth had been on board the Carpathia for a few hours now. She stood by the side of the ship and watched the Ocean as more boats appeared from the glow of the rising sun. One by one, little wooden lifeboats would sail forth from the horizon, like weary soldiers returning from war. She scanned the crowd for familiar faces, but so far she had been unlucky in spotting the gleaming blue eyes and bright red hair of her daughter. Every face looked the same. Class and gender, background and age was no longer relevant. Everyone looked pale, withered, tired and depressed. It wasn't surprising after what they had just seen. Those that still had their lives had lost their souls to the horror that they witnessed. Survivors ascended the rope ladders and into the gangway door, leading into the warm heart of the rescue vessel. Some people didn't climb the ladder. Some people didn't leave the lifeboats. Instead their stiff corpses were covered with a blanket or a sheet and then carefully lowered into the sea.

Ruth saw one of the survivors, so young, just a boy, wearing his pyjamas and slippers, curled up in a ball in the corner of the lifeboat. One of the officers nudged him, trying to wake him up. Minutes passed, and he didn't move. They checked for a pulse. Nothing. A dreadful shake of the head, lowering of eyes from the frozen face of the boy, and then he was discarded of, placed into the sea like unwanted trash. The officers stood in silence for a moment after he was gone, and then instantly went back to work. Ruth was almost sick at the sight. So young. . . so young.

"Ruth!" A loud voice boomed through the reverent silence and hushed voices of respect on the 1st class section of the deck. Ruth turned sharply, woken from her trance, and saw Molly approaching her with two steaming mugs of bliss. "Good old English tea! Thought you could use it."

She handed Ruth the hot drink which she took, not so much out of want, but more out of need. Her insides felt like solid ice, and the more her heart broke, the more the ice shards pained her. With each passing face that wasn't her daughter, she felt like jumping overboard. "Why...?"

"Why what?" Molly asked, noticing her glum expression, staring down into her tea.

"Why do people think that tea will make everything better?"

"I don't think they do... but it's comforting. And after being out at sea all night, I'm not complaining." After she had finished speaking, she took a gulp of the tea heartily, embracing its intense heat and flavour.

"But... after my husband had died, we drank tea. When I met Cal and told him about my debt, he offered me tea. And now we're drinking tea because Rose is de-"

"Rose is not dead!" Molly cut her off as Ruth's voice began shaking, her hands trembling as she pushed her hair back frantically, turning away from the crowds and staring out to the shimmering blue horizon. She didn't want those around her to see her tears. It was mad enough that they were seeing her looking ill and in her nightwear. They had seen her at her worst outwardly, but she wouldn't let them see her at her weakest. She had nothing left. She at least wanted to leave with her dignity. "Rose is a smart girl. She wouldn't have just sat on that metal mammoth and went down like a rag doll on a broken shelf. She'll be safe... trust me."

Ruth was still for a moment, and then slowly turned to look over her shoulder at Molly in her large fur coat and brave expression. "How do I know I can trust you? I hardly know you." The Unsinkable Molly Brown. She could stand so tall and remain so unshaken at such a terrible time. She had taken charge and ordered men around like servants. She was a new breed of woman, and Ruth was seeing the future now more than ever. In Molly, she saw what she had to do. She had to keep calm and carry on.

"Darling, we trusted the White Star Line... a bunch of strangers smoking cigars and drawing boats... we trusted them, and look where we are now." She put a hand on the shaking mothers shoulder, instantly settling her. "What harm could trusting me do? You push people away because you feel a wake of devastation follows you. Money makes you feel safe... what about friendship?"

Ruth knew she was right, and turning on the spot to face her new friend, she broke down in tears and collapsed into Molly's arms. Just then, an officer of the Carpathia passed, and Molly stopped him. "Excuse me, son. You wouldn't happen to have a list of any sort laying about? Names?" She made sure Ruth wasn't listening, and then spoke in a quieter voice, "A list of survivors?" If Ruth heard the word "survivors" and then didn't hear her daughters name, that would be the end of her. The ocean was just a jump away.

"I'll have a look, Ma'am. Any name in particular you're looking for?"

"DeWitt Bukater... Rose DeWitt Bukater." Molly spoke, still a tad more silent than her usual trumpeting voice.

The man smiled slightly at the sound of her name and replied, "Rose DeWitt Bukater? Oh I couldn't forget a name like that. She's the read headed beauty, right?"

Ruth's attention had been gained, and she raced forward, almost knocking Molly over like a domino. "Where's my baby?" she asked, her eyes the size of dinner plates, big blue pools of hope.

The officer raised his arm and pointed over his shoulder at a shrouded figure on a bench across the ship, on the other side of the ship. "She's over there, Miss. Your daughter i assume? She has your eyes... and your hair." He laughed slightly.

"My girl!" Ruth screamed, and instantly she began running towards her, pushing past anyone and anything that got in her way. Her feet, only wearing slippers, ached with the impact against the wooden floor of the deck, but it was nothing compared to the pain her eyes and heart had endured the night before. Her throat too was in agony with all the crying she had done, but not too sore that she couldn't shout out her name. "Rose! Rose!"

Rose was watching the sky. It was so wonderful. It was just a shame that it was looking down on such a horrendous scene. Just then, she heard a voice, a familiar voice, and she looked across the boat deck, only to see a flash of red hair and a crying face rushing towards her like a loving bullet, aiming for her heart.

Rose jumped up, dropping the blanket from her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor, and she opened her arms, ready to catch the only person she wanted to hold right now. "Mother!"

Ruth finally reached her baby and as soon as she got to Rose they were both hugging eachother tighter than they ever had before. Ruth stroked her daughters hair and sobbed into it, and Rose smelled her mother's distinctive perfume and cried into her shoulder, saying over and over, "I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry."

After a few minutes of embracing and appreciating the presence of one another, Ruth managed to control her sobs and pushed Rose off of her for a moment, making sure to hold her at only an arms distance away. That was as far away as she would let her go ever again. Ruth tried to put on her serious face, but struggled to. Seeing Rose's red eyes and red nose to match, her hair a matted mess and her complexion tired, it was not the girl she had left behind. She looked older, more experienced, more worldly wise. Ruth began, "Why didn't you come with me? There was plenty of room for you on that boat. Do you know how worried I was? I sat and watched that boat tear itself apart and I heard all sorts of hellish-" she stopped, covering her mouth as her eyes watered and her lip trembled, the images coming back in her mind. The damage. The destruction. The death.

Rose put her hands on Ruth's face, clasping her cold cheeks, cradling her fearful expression, comforting her. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to leave you, but I had to."

"What?" Ruth was confused. "Did you go back for Cal?"

Rose scoffed. "Would he have gone back for me?"

"Speaking of Cal, where is-"

Rose cut her off, "Mother... Cal tried to kill me last night."

Ruth fell silent and her large eyes widened. Her jaw dropped, and even the seagulls in the air seemed to grow more quiet. "I beg your pardon?"

"That poor boy from steerage, Jack, the one from the church service?"

"What about him?"

"He was being held down in the lower parts of the ship, and when the ship began to flood, Cal went down and freed him."

Ruth shook her head, not understanding any of this. "But... why?"

Rose had to process the information she was about to share in her mind before speaking it. It didn't even sound believeable to her. "He was planning to kill someone... and he needed the help of a mad man... Cal never was good at doing his own dirty work."

"Who was he going to kill?"

Rose took a deep breath... she hadn't said this name aloud for a while... but it had to be said. "Thomas Andrews."

Her mother gasped, "Mr Andrews... the ship builder? why him?"

"Because..." Rose paused. It was time. The truth had to come out eventually. Rose struggled to speak. It was like in a nightmare, when you are face to face with the most frightening thing you could ever encounter, and when you try to speak... you can't. But this was real life, and the nightmare was over. The reality of the situation had to be said. "...because me and Thomas were having an affair, and when Cal found out he was furious. He knew that Jack wanted me too, so he promised me to Jack. But Jack had to kill Thomas in order to get me, so Cal locked Jack in Thomas' cabin with his gun and said he wouldn't get out until Thomas was dead. When me and Thomas found him in there he got out and chased us through the sinking ship, shooting at us like clay pigeons! But Thomas saved me. Jack went down with the ship I'm sure... as for Cal... I have no idea where he is." Out of breath and feeling like she was out of her mind, Rose stopped to inspect Ruth's face.

horror... confusion... shock... but not a hint of doubt. "So that's why Cal left the church service to see what all the fuss was about. Thomas AND Jack were there. He was no doubt putting them in their place... how could Cal do this? He always seemed like such a gentleman..." Ruth looked away, trying to absorb everything she had just bee told, un able to fathum it just yet. "So... you and Thomas..."

"We slept together... last night... I do not blush to tell." Rose stood her ground.

"And so you stayed on the ship... to be with Thomas?"

Rose nodded. "I couldn't go, Mother. Not without knowing he'd be alright."

"Do you love him?"

Rose thought on this for a moment. She wasn't sure how she'd react, but she had not told a single lie so far, so why start now? "Yes... yes I do. I love him more than I've ever loved anyone on this God given Earth. He showed me the lying lessons of this world and put knowledge in my heart. He's a better man than Cal will ever be, and I don't care that I commited lechery. They say love conquers all... if that is so, then let it be so."

Ruth couldn't believe what she had just heard. Standing right in front of her was not her baby girl... it was a young woman, an adult, a perfect specimen of a lady. She was honest, loyal, caring and beautiful. Rose seemed spoilt and always complained before April 10th 1912... but that was because she was being forced into Cal's arms. She was unhappy, and struggling to chose a wedding dress was the perfect excuse for delaying the wedding. Being freed from Cal and being able to live a short but happy life with Thomas over the space of 4 days had shown her who she wanted to be. Ruth understood exactly what Rose said, and a warm smile crept across her face. She opened her arms and walked forward, wrapping them around Rose. "I know what you're feeling, sweetheart, I do... it's love." She kissed her daughter's forehead and then let her go, looking into her face adoringly, so proud of the woman she had brought into the world, but failed to shape herself. It took the hands of an Irish shipbuilder to fix this girl. "I stayed by your father's side through his gambling addiction and through the debt right until the very end... and you stayed on a death trap in the middle of the ocean with Thomas right until the very end... if that's not love, I don't know what is."

Rose knew she was right, and as tear rolled down her cheek, Ruth wiped it away with a careful finger. She could feel a connection with her mother that she had never felt with her before now... as if they were finally, after so many chapters, on the same page.

"Where is Thomas? I have to thank him for bringing you here safely." Ruth scanned the deck eagerly, looking between the sorrowful faces and past the large pile of used lifejackets, hoping to catch a glimpse of the tall, dark handsome man with the silver hair and the black overcoat.

Rose felt the lump in her throat tighten, the nightmare returning, the inability to speak back once more. She hadn't lied so far... why start now? "He's... he's dead."

Ruth whipped her head back round just in time to see Rose fall to her knees and sob into the floor, her red hair falling over her face, hiding the pain from passers by as they watched a mother cradle her daughter. Ruth kissed her daughters head and rocked her back and forth like a baby, crying for something it has lost which the mother cannot replace. She brushed her daughters hair aside and held her chin up to look into her eyes, deep blue and filled with agony, like the Ocean around them. "He may be dead, but he's not gone..." Ruth whispered into Roses' ear. "...Love never goes away, and as long as you love him, he'll be with you."

And so they stayed this way, a mother cradling her daughter on the floor of the Carpathia, not caring who saw them. Everyone on this ship was an equal. Everyone on this ship was a survivor.


	25. Chapter 25

**June 23****rd**** 1912 – New York **

It had been two months or so since that fateful night on the 14th of April 1912. Inquiries had began in the supreme court of New York to investigate the sinking and piece together the nights events, based on eye witness testimonies from surviving crew and passengers of all classes, and wireless messages sent from Jack Phillips and Harold Bride, the operators of the sunken luxury liner's Marconi system. So far, the only thing that seemed to be a rather controversial issue with the White Star Line, who were the ones being put to shame for the 1500 lives lost, was if the ship broke in two or not. The company insist it couldn't have. Some survivors claim it did, whilst others say she sank intact. Several people reported explosions from within her, which officers say could have been her boilers breaking loose from their beds with the angle of the boiler room. These heavy boilers would have then raced down the sloping floors, crashing through walls, plummeting towards her bow, adding even more weight to her front end and lightening her rear end, speeding up the sinking, but also allowing the ship to split with the uneven weight being supported in mid air. The ship wasn't designed to deal with such stress. Thomas drew the blueprints of the Titanic with design in mind, not death. That's exactly what Rose told the court when she was called as a witness.

She received a letter in the post at her temporary place of accommodation, her Aunt Violet's. It wasn't ideal, but she had nowhere else to go. Cal was dead, and her home in Philadelphia had been put up for sale in order to make some money for her and Ruth. Cal didn't leave anything to her in his will, which didn't surprise her, and so the wedding was cancelled with little sadness, and condolence cards were thrown into the fireplace, keeping her hatred for Caledon burning stronger than ever. Grieving was reserved for Thomas Andrews... Who was Caledon Hockley? Ruth struggled to fit into a normal way of life, without chauffeurs to drive her down the street, and maids to bow down to her every whim. She sometimes thought about life if Cal had survived. It would have been miserably luxurious. They would have had money and power... but they wouldn't have had happiness. And what if Thomas had survived? Rose would be happy, and they would still be well off. After the sinking, Ruth's mind, Roses mind', everyone's mind was full of 'what if's'. Ruth however, paid for Trudy's funeral costs. It was the least she could do for her poor family back home in Ireland. Rose was surprised to see her mother cry when she heard the news of Trudy... Ruth had changed... she still had a long way to come, but baby steps would suffice.

Sitting in the hallway outside the court room on an uncomfortable wooden chair, Rose waited to be called in. She had been feeling rather ill lately, ever since the sinking in fact. She put it down to sea sickness on the Carpathia, but after that she didn't know what could be the cause of her vomiting and dizzy spells. And right now, in the concrete and marble hallway, with the arched windows, allowing sunlight to pour in and worsen her migraine, It was like awaiting a death sentence. She had dressed for the occasion, wearing a black pencil skirt, a tight black blazer and red heels, with bright red lips to match. Her hair had been tied up in a bun, adorned with a large black hat, shading her deep blue eyes. Her pale skin looked so ornate now in contrast with the black, and the blood red of her soft lips made her hair come alive. The tight fitting dress and coat emphasised her curves and complimented her well. Lawyers and judges who passed by couldn't help but take a look, maybe even give a cheeky wink. She blushed and laughed it off. Their winks could never be the same as his winks. The butterflies died the day he did.

Today she was here for a reason. She was going to set the record straight. There were many rumours flying around surrounding the sinking, mainly about who was to blame. Bruce Ismay, who escaped on a lifeboat and allowed hundreds of others to die thanks to his creation, or Thomas Andrews, who died with his ship and was seen as weak, for he couldn't bear to face the public opinion and would rather have perished. Either way, live or die, it was a lose lose situation. Rose didn't want Thomas' name and memory tarnished. Today the past was going to be laid to rest.

It was bad enough when Thomas' mangled and shrivelled corpse was found by a Mackay Bennet recovery boat, almost a week after the sinking. He was found in his overcoat, without his pocket watch, and his body had been crushed by the ship's foremost funnel. Rose had no idea that when the funnel fell he was underneath it, and upon reading it in the paper she was literally sick. She locked herself in her room for days, refused to eat, and only came out to throw up again. She managed to find out where and when his funeral was being held, and she lay a single rose upon his gravestone, the flower itself still closed, but the vase of water in which it stood would give it enough strength to open up and blossom, just the way he had done for her.

She didn't mention the affair at the funeral, but when the priest asked who would like to say a few words, she looked around the sorrowful faces, of which there were many, and then politely stood up, walked to the front of the church and kissed his coffin, before whispering, "Emilia's been waiting for you Thomas... I can wait a little longer."

Just then, as a single grey tear rolled down her cheek from her mascara eyelashes, she heard a deep voice call her name, "Rose DeWitt Bukater?" the word echoing through the hallway repeatedly. "We're ready for you now."

She smiled faintly, thanked him, and she composed herself, standing up to fix her jacket and wipe her eyes. Straightening her large hat, she nodded, telling herself that she was ready and that she could do this. She began to follow the suited man through the large, heavy double doors, fighting the urge to throw up. This jacket felt oddly tight on her. Tighter than usual. She didn't feel she had gained weight, although she hadn't wore it in a while.

When she entered the court room, she saw high ceilings, wooden beams, chandeliers, and rows of seats filled with eager faces, watching in anticipation like they were paying customers watching a Nickelodeon. The doors shut behind her, slamming, the boom bouncing off the walls and echoing for a while, and as they vanished, the clicking of Roses' heels became more prominent as she made her way to the witness stand. The judge watched her from under his powdered wig, and Ruth watched on from the sidelines, taking a seat with the rest of the crowd. At the front of the room, facing the audience was a diagram of the ship, sliced in half almost, in order to show her inside compartments and rooms. She scanned the drawing as she walked, and then she looked at the bottom right hand corner of the image. She saw black handwriting which read, 'T Andrews.' Her legs almost gave way from under her as she saw his hand writing for the first time in a long time. She ascended the marble steps, stood behind the stand and placed her hand on the bible which was presented to her from a court official.

The judge began, keeping a serious tone and expression the whole time, his royal looking robes and curled wig almost intimidating. "Miss Rose DeWitt Bukater, do you swear to the court and jury that the testimony you are about to give is one hundred percent your recollection and is of no fabrication?"

"I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth." Rose looked down at the bible under her hand. It looked so old and rustic. The leather cover was smooth, yet rough at the same time. And then, it was taken away, and Rose was on her own. She had been sworn in, and now it was about to begin. Like a little girl in a school play, about to perform her solo role on stage in front of everyone, she glanced around the room, desperately hoping to see her mother's face. She didn't, but she knew she was there. She felt her stomach churn. Nerves or nausea... she wasn't certain.

The questioning lasted about an hour. With each answer she gave, and each question she received, it was all written down on a typewriter by a little old man in the corner of the room. They were mostly basic questions, such as "what did the collision feel like?" and "what angle did her stern reach before the power went out?" and of course the million dollar question, "Did you see her break in half?" to which Rose said yes. She didn't see it, not entirely because it was so dark, but she heard it. She knew she heard it. There was so much carnage. The snapping of wood, tearing of metal, smashing of glass, the exploding boilers. It was hellish to listen to. Not to mention the dying chorus of screams from the ship and cries from the water that played through out. Rose did indeed cry several times during the questioning, the thought of it all proving too much. The onlookers that listened to her testimony couldn't help but feel her heartache, understanding that this young girl had seen and endured a lot, but luckily had managed to live through it.

"I understand that your fiancé was not as lucky as yourself that night." The man in the smart suit stated, sounding solemn.

"No he was not." Rose answered bluntly, trying not to sound too heartless.

"Were you with your fiancé when the ship went down?"

"No."

"Did you go down with the ship?"

"No, I was on an overturned lifeboat when her electricity went off... it was so dark."

"I bet it was... so, how did you get to this lifeboat? Did you swim?"

"I swam, yes."

"You must have been tired. The water was well below freezing."

"I was... we all were." Rose looked out at the rows of faces, most of which were fellow survivors. She saw it in their eyes. They were all desperate to just drop to the floor and sob... but their brave faces tried to hide this fact.

"Another survivor who was on this overturned lifeboat says he saw an older gentleman bring you onto the boat."

"Yes."

"Was this your fiancé?"

Rose was silent for a moment, and then asked, "Is this relevant?"

"I'm only curious. It's always nice to name the heroes of such tragedies, and helping your wife-to-be to safety and then dying yourself... well, Caledon Hockley must be a brave man. That's headline material right there. What a gentleman... the last of a dying breed."

"Caledon Hockley was NOT a brave man, and was NOT a gentleman; he was a coward and a monster of a man!" Rose screamed abruptly.

The court room fell silent, and several gasps filled the air, followed by a sudden rush of hushed conversation. The judge stared at her open mouthed, and her questioner had shut up for the first time in over an hour. Rose was caught off guard by her own actions. She didn't mean to erupt like that. She couldn't control it. Lately, anything she felt was heard, and it was heard by everyone from within a ten mile radius. All of her emotions and feelings felt amplified since the sinking. She had been to doctors who put it down to post traumatic stress disorder, similar to that of a soldier after returning from war.

"So it wasn't your fiancé who brought you onto the lifeboat?" he raised an eyebrow.

She knew what he was getting at from the tone of his voice and the way he gestured to the onlookers behind him. "You know it wasn't."

"So who was it, Miss DeWitt Bukater?" He crossed his arms and awaited an answer.

She kept him waiting.

"You've sworn on the holy bible, ma'am... you can't lie now."

"It's not lying if I'm not speaking." Rose replied snappily. "This has nothing to do with the sinking."

"Oh but it does... someone saved you, and you were seen kissing them and confessing your love for them. If it wasn't your deceased fiancé... who was it?"

Rose felt betrayed. Someone who had been on that boat with her had shared her most intimate and heart breaking moment. They had ripped out a chapter of her life and given it to the court like a fool giving their soul to the devil... only it wasn't their soul to give away. She felt sick again... but she couldn't lie, and the world had to know that Thomas was a hero and that he didn't die in vain. "The man who saved me built this ship, and he was riddled with guilt when it began to sink. The man who saved me was a hero amongst men, and was more of a man than Cal could ever be. The man who saved me was Thomas Andrews. The man I kissed was Thomas Andrews. The man I loved was... _is _Thomas Andrews... and it always will be." She stood up and excused herself from the witness stand. She had done what she came to do.

The court erupted into a frenzy of voices and shouts of surprise, no one guessing for a second that this red headed beauty would reveal such a scandal. The judge slammed his gavel several times, attempting to gain order in the court. The paparazzi were already up from their seats, snapping photographs of the glamorous young women as she made her way out of the court. Journalists waited outside, having had their ears pressed up against the door, and when she opened the door they were waiting for her, like sharks going in for the kill. She pushed her way through the flashing bulbs and bombardment of questions, aiming to get out of the building as quickly as possible. She didn't feel right at all. Her head was even more painful than before, and her guts were churning. She had a horrible lump in her throat and her dizzy spells had become more frequent.

She managed to get out of the court and into the fresh air of New York City, and as she began to descend the stairs, still being followed by paparazzi, she felt the ground beneath her feet give way, and she collapsed in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, unconscious. She had fainted, but that didn't stop the camera bulbs from going off. What better front page could there be? "_**ENGAGED GIRL HAD AFFAIR WITH THOMAS ANDREWS WHILST ON TITANIC. RED HEAD GODESS VERBALLY BASHES HER DEAD FIANCE IN COURT. THANKS HEROIC ANDREWS FOR SAVING HER LIFE. YOUNG BEAUTY FAINTS AFTER LEAVING COURT.**_" . . . papers were going to be flying off the shelf.

Rose woke up in hospital later that day. The sterile room with its white walls and shining lights made her eyes sore. She struggled to open them, but when she finally did she saw Ruth sitting in a chair by her bedside, knitting calmly.

"Mother?" Rose murmured.

Instantly, Ruth had thrown the half made scarf aside and jumped out of the chair, rushing to her daughters side. She ran a hand through her hair and said softly, "Thank God you're awake. I was worried sick."

"Mother, what happened?"

"You fainted, Rose. You had a nasty fall on the court stairs. I came out to find those damn photographers looming over you like vulchers. Honestly, they would do anything to get paid."

"I... I don't remember... I remember being in court... and I told them... I told them about Thomas." She began to think on what she had just done, piecing it together like a jigsaw.

"Everyone knows now... they know." Ruth

"Do you think he'd be mad at me for telling them? What if he gets an even worse reputation?"

"Why should two people who were in love be frowned upon? And he wouldn't be mad at you sweetheart. He'd be wondering what on earth was wrong with you. This isn't the first time you've fainted, is it?"

"No..." she admitted hesitantly.

"Why haven't you told me?"

"I didn't want to worry you."

"I'm worried now!" Ruth exclaimed, looking at her daughter in this horrible bed in those disgusting white hospital clothes.

"Oh stop it mother, you'll give yourself a nosebleed." Rose joked, holding Ruth's hand. Ruth lifted her daughter's hand and kissed it lovingly.

Suddenly, the door opened, and a man in a long white coat walked in carrying a clipboard. Your typical doctor. He was a little older than Thomas, but nowhere near as handsome. "Sorry to interrupt, ladies. I have the results of your blood and urine tests. I believe you had the urine sample taken a few weeks ago, yes?"

Rose nodded. "What's wrong with me? Am I going to be alright?" she was genuinely concerned. Ruth gripped her hand supportively.

Just then, the Doctor laughed, a loud hearty laugh, and both Rose and Ruth were stunned. "What could possibly be funny?" asked Ruth, bewildered.

He composed himself and then looked at Rose. "Of course you will be alright. Look at this woman right here!" He signalled to Ruth. "She's perfectly alright, isn't she?"

"I'm sorry, I don't understand. What does my mother have to do with this?" with a little more effort than usual, Rose sat up in the bed.

"Exactly that... she's your mother... soon to be a grandmother!" He smiled at them both, and in return he received two completely blank and shocked expressions.

Ruth gulped. "She's... pregnant?"

"Has been for about two months now. You just need to make sure that you're eating enough for two, but apart from that you're fine."

"_I... I can't be... pregnant._" Rose whispered, thinking back to the last time she had sex.

"Well I can assure you... you are! I wouldn't be wearing this coat if I couldn't tell a pregnancy when I saw one." He chuckled again. "I'll leave you both to process the information, but congratulations Miss Bukater! Your man is very lucky to have a girl like you. Your baby will be beautiful. A gift from the Gods!" he nodded to them both, waved politely, and then he spun round and left the room, leaving mother and daughter in a stunned silence.

Ruth turned her head slowly and looked at Rose. "Is it... is it _his_?"

"Who's?"

"Cal's?" Ruth turned her nose up at the thought. She spoke with a subtle disgust.

"No... it can't... it's been over 4 months since we last slept together... the only other person I slept with was..." Rose's eyes flew open immediately, and her mouth spread into a wide grin.

"So the baby is..."

"It's Thomas' baby! It's his baby! I'm going to be the mother of his child!" Rose shouted in excitement, flinging her arms around Ruth, sobbing once more. This explained the sickness and heightened emotions.

"If only he was here to see this." Ruth said, feeling her eyes watering too. She was going to be grandmother at a fairly young age which pleased her, but to the child of a legendary man and an inspirational woman... that woman being her own baby. "If only he was here."

"He's here, Mother... he'll always be here." She put a hand on her stomach and rubbed it affectionately. "Always."

Rose couldn't believe it. He was dead, but he was going to live on in the soul of someone else. Someone who would grow up to learn about their Daddy, and all the amazing things he created and built. The man that loved to laugh and lived to love. The man who could take a heap of wood and metal and build a floating palace. The man who saved Rose, in every way that a person could be saved. At least she had plenty pictures of him. He had been in many newspapers before, so they would get to see their handsome father in his trademark overcoat. It saddened Rose that they would never get to see his cheeky wink, or that he could never hold his first born child in his strong, protective and loving arms. He would never teach his child how to ride a bike or count to 10, and he would never be able to take his child to the shipyard and show him what he does at work... but Rose would do all of those things, and when she did, she knew Thomas would be watching her from above. Ruth would be there too, and Rose felt she was a changed woman. She'd make a wonderful grandmother.

Rose promised from that day on that she would dedicate her life to the father that was, but never would be. She would live the rest of her life dedicated entirely to the life that was growing inside of her. She would dedicate her life to the blossoming flower in her womb, and as long as she did that, everything would be alright.

She would dedicate her life to the Irishman's young rose.


	26. Authors Note THANK YOUS & GOODBYES!

_**We'll stay forever this way. You are safe in my heart, and My Heart Will Go On. . .**_

I've been using FanFiction for a while now, a number of years in fact, and I've written quite a few stories, mostly for Titanic. Some either have no reviews, and some have maybe 7 reviews to about 18 reviews at most... but this story took off in a way i could have never expected!

Believe it or not, i wrote the first chapter of this story to be a one shot, just kinda showing the flirtyness of the lunch scene with Thomas and rose. I honestly did not intend for the story to become 25 chapters long! 25 CHAPTERS! Aaaaaaaaah! To some of you that may not seem like much, but to me it's a lot! I've never actually completed a story, so writing and completing this one meant a lot to me.

When I saw the sudden jump in reviews after the first night of it being up, i realized how in love with the rose/Thomas pairing the Titanic community is. I love them as a couple, and the more i thought about it, the more i thought, "well, why don't i just write a full fic?" ... and im so glad i did!

I have had some of the most loyal and kind and helpful reviewers that any writer could ever ask for, and they kept me going. During the middle of this story, some personal issues in my life occurred, but this story and focussing on pleasing my fans and readers honestly kept me going, and for that i thank you all.

The story itself has had some HIGHS, including a French writer asking my permission to translate the story into French to show his French friends and classmates in his writing class, and the link to my story being shared on COUNTLESS Tumblr pages and Thomas/Rose blogs! I couldn't believe there were people reading it who didn't even use fanfiction, so really, i don't have any idea how many readers it has had exactly!

And then the LOWS, the reviews saying that my story was sounding "rushed" at points, and personally i never thought it felt rushed, but summing up 2 hours and 40 minutes and sinking ship scenes PLUS dialogue to help drive the action and plot forward isn't the easiest task. Also, there was a small incident involving some possible plagiarism... the theft of my story's content... but we wont dwell on that.

In the end, i took every criticism on board (hahaha, on board, d'ya get it?) and i tried to improve my next chapter. At the end of the day, what you guys said meant a lot to me, and i always listened to you guys and tried my best to follow your advice, and your compliments always warmed my heart and made me feel confident about my writing skills.

I always used to just write for a hobby, scribbling plot ideas and stories down on paper... but no one could read them if they lay under my bed and gathered dust, so discovering ' ' was a big step for me! I didn't know my writing could be loved and admired by so many people. I'm only 16, SOON TO BE 17 ON THE 16TH OF JULY! :D ... but yeah, The amount of reviews is ridiculous... and not to brag, but it's one of the most reviewed TITANIC stories on FF, and it's THE MOST reviewed Thomas/Rose story on FF... so yeah, #proud! :D

I never knew my story would snowball into something so huge, but it did, and its thanks to all of you that it did! My friends are so proud of me for being this well known titanic author, and my family think its brilliant that im doing what i love for fun and for free, and to please my fans and fellow writers and readers!

I was quite emotional when finishing this story, because it had taken up quite a chunk of my year, and i grew attached to the characters and the plot... but like Rose had to let go of Thomas, I must let go of this story and finally press the "COMPLETE" button, for this story is no longer a work in progress... The End.

Although... don't think that this is the last Thomas/Rose story from me... because i dunno... the general vibe i feel is that i should do another... we'll see ;)

There will be MANY more stories to come, and hopefully my fans will stay as loyal. But for now, im gonna actually READ some fanfics, because ive not done that in a while... bye guys, take care, thank you, and with all my love i leave you with this story, "The Irishman's Young Rose."

Just because it's finished, it doesn't mean it's over. Feel free to drop by and read it any time! 3

**WITH A SPECIAL THANKS TO...**

Patrick Verona's Cougar -  You helped me get used to the site and its people when i was the newbie. You were always there for a chat, and you told me about the linking of my story on Tumblr and the potential plagiarism. Thank you for being my guide, my mentor, my fellow Scot, but also... my friend.

CatalynMJ88 – Thank you for giving the most in depth and complimentary reviews. You boosted my confidence when i needed a boost most. You always made me feel that i was doing something right, and seeing that you had reviewed always put a smile on my face. Its for people like you that i write.

Nofal – Thank you for translating my story. It means a lot to me that someone from another country liked it enough to want to share it with his fellow French friends. I've looked at it and it is looking brilliant. Well done with the translation, and thank you for crediting me! Feel free to message me anytime!

And thanks to everyone else! 3


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